The wind blew over the rooftops, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and coming rain. Catarina sat by her bedroom window, a notebook resting on her knees.The evening light filtered through the curtains, soft, golden, almost nostalgic. She wrote without really knowing why. Maybe to remember. Maybe to avoid forgetting.
"I think families are like mirrors.Sometimes, we see ourselves in them.Sometimes, we get lost."
Her phone vibrated, Soren, her twin brother. A smile escaped her lips.They weren't the type to call often; distance had slowly stretched their lives apart,but an invisible thread still connected them.
She picked up.
"Hey, little sunshine," said Soren.
" I'll remind you I'm the older one. By five minutes."
"And I'm the one who stole your birthday cake. I've got moral superiority."
They laughed, throwing playful jabs at each other. Then came the essential question:
" Where are you?"
"In Madrid, for a shoot. It's unbearably hot."
" It's raining here."
" As always, huh? You love the rain too much."
A tender silence followed, the kind shared by those who don't need words to understand each other."And you? he asked softly. How are you, really?"
"I'm… fine. I think. I'm moving forward."
"Liar. You've got that voice you use when you're pretending."
She sighed."It's just… complicated. But not serious."
"If it's complicated, it's serious. Tell me."
"No, it's just… I met someone. A friend, actually."
"Oh?"
She could hear the smile in his voice.
"Her name's Althéa."
"That name sounds like a promise."
"It kind of is. She's… bright. Talkative. Alive. And sad sometimes, too."
"Like you."
She didn't reply.Soren's tone turned more serious.
" I'm glad. You needed someone like that. Someone to bring you back to the surface."
Catarina nodded, even though he couldn't see her.
"And you? Eating? Sleeping?"
"No, but I took pictures with a horse, so that makes up for it."
"Fantastic. I hope it loves you more than I do."
" No one could ever love me more than you, Cat. You know that."
Those simple words touched her more deeply than she cared to admit. Because Soren was her other half, her fixed point in a shifting world. Even across time zones, she still felt their hearts beat in sync.
When she hung up, a quiet warmth lingered in the room. Catarina rested her head against the glass, watching the rain fall. A part of her wondered what Althéa's house looked like, that vague "home" she spoke of now and then.
Across the city, Althéa lay on her bed, earbuds in. Her room was a beautiful mess: open notebooks, posters, sketches, and her brother's sweater draped over a chair.She scrolled through her playlist and stopped on a soft, almost instrumental track.
Niels knocked gently on the door.
"Got two minutes?"
" If it's about me stealing your hoodie again, no." " If it's about pizza, yes."
She sat up immediately, pretending to pout.
"Okay, come in. But I'm picking the movie."
"No. Not another tragic romance where everyone dies in the end."
"They don't all die. Sometimes they survive, but they hurt."
He rolled his eyes.
"That's worse."
They sat side by side, pizza box between them, the movie playing in the background. After a few minutes, Althéa turned to him.
" Hey, Niels… do you remember her?"
"Mom?"
He froze.The silence stretched before he answered.
"A bit. Not enough, though."
"Do you have memories? Real ones?"
"Fragments, yeah. Her voice. She used to sing. And she smelled like vanilla and rain."
"Do you miss her?"
" All the time."
He paused, eyes lost in the bluish glow of the screen.
"But you know, the worst part isn't the absence. It's the questions that stay. Dad never talks about her. And when I ask, he closes his eyes like he's seeing a ghost."
Althéa nodded.
"He's afraid."
"Of what?"
"Of remembering."
A bitter little laugh slipped out of her.
" Feels like we live in a house full of locked memories."
"Yeah. A house with too many closed doors."
She leaned against him slightly.
"Good thing I have you."
"Always. That's my job as the big brother."
She looked up at him, her gaze shimmering.
"Promise me we'll end up happy."
"What's "happy"?"
"I don't know. Maybe just… stop searching for what's missing."
He smiled, sad and soft all at once.
"Then yeah. Promise."
Later that night, Althéa texted Catarina:
Althéa: "I think we're all built from what we're missing."
Catarina: "Or from what we're searching for."
Althéa: "And what are you searching for?"
Catarina: "Peace."
Althéa: "You'll find it. Maybe not alone."
Catarina read the message several times before falling asleep.The rain had stopped, but the wind was still singing. And in the quiet of the night, their two worlds, so different, so alike, seemed to brush against each other without yet recognizing it.
That night, neither of them knew they were walking the same road.That somewhere, one man's shadow already tied their stories together. And that the name they both cherished would one day shatter them.