The airport was crowded, filled with the sound of rolling suitcases and voices in many languages. Eliana Reid stood near the window, holding her boarding pass, her dark coat neat and her hair tied back. She looked calm on the outside, but her mind was busy.

Beside her, her little sister Maya stretched her legs out in front of her chair and crossed her arms. “Feels strange, doesn’t it?” she asked.

Eliana turned to her. “What does?”

“Going back,” Maya said. “France. We haven’t been there since… what, fifteen years ago?”

“Almost,” Eliana said. Her eyes softened as old memories flickered in her mind. They had lived in Paris for six years as children, before their family moved back to the U.S. She remembered the narrow streets, the smell of bread in the mornings, the sound of the language all around them. It felt far away now, like another life.

Maya leaned her head back against the seat. “Sometimes I wonder if it’ll feel familiar, or if it’ll feel like we’re strangers.”

“You were too young to remember much,” Eliana said gently. “I was older. I remember more.”

“I remember some things,” Maya argued, though her voice was thoughtful. “I remember the little park near our apartment. And the bakery mum used to take us to.”

Eliana smiled at that, a real one this time. “The bakery… yes. With the little lemon tarts.”

Maya’s eyes lit up. “Exactly. I’m finding that place again. I don’t care how long it takes.”

Eliana shook her head, amused. “Paris is big. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Hope is all I’ve got,” Maya said with a grin, then shrugged. “Besides, I need this gap year. After my first year of college, I just… needed a break. Classes were… a lot”.

Eliana studied her younger sister. At twenty, Maya was still searching, but she wasn’t a child anymore. She was bold, restless, and unafraid to speak her mind. It worried Eliana sometimes, but it also gave her comfort. Paris would not scare Maya.

“Then don’t waste it,” Eliana said softly.

“I won’t.” Maya’s eyes lit with determination. “I want to try new things—fashion, photography, maybe even investing. Who knows? I don’t want to look back and think I didn’t try.”

Before Eliana could answer, the speaker above them announced their boarding. Maya jumped up at once, shoving her phone in her pocket. “Finally.”

Eliana rose more slowly, tucking her boarding pass into her coat. They joined the line toward the gate, scanning their passes before walking through the jet bridge.

Business class was quiet compared to the noise of the terminal. The wide seats and soft lighting gave everything a calmer feel. The sisters found their row, sliding their carry-ons into the overhead compartment before settling down.

Eliana sank into her seat and let out a small breath. “Better,” she murmured.

Maya already had her blanket pulled over her lap.

An attendant stopped by with warm towels and drinks. Eliana chose water, while Maya, grinning, asked for champagne. She lifted the glass with a playful smile. “Cheers to Paris.”

Eliana clinked her water against Maya’s glass. “To Paris.”

As the plane began to taxi, Maya opened the screen in front of her. “Eight hours. What do people even do on flights this long?”

“Sleep,” Eliana said simply.

Maya shook her head. “Nope. I’m watching movies. I’ll sleep when we land.” She scrolled through the options. “They even have French films. I should probably watch one for practice.”

“Good idea,” Eliana said, leaning back and fastening her belt. “It might help you remember the language.”

The wheels touched down with a bump, and Maya let out a quiet breath. “Finally,” she said, pulling her hair into a messy bun. “Eight hours feels like twenty.”

Eliana smirked. “Maybe if you’d slept instead of binge-watching movies…”

“Worth it,” Maya cut in. “I caught up on two seasons of a show, thank you very much.” She reached for her carry-on as the seatbelt light clicked off. “Besides, I’ll sleep when we get to the house.”

They moved through the airport with practiced ease—passports stamped, luggage collected, and a driver already waiting at the curb with a sleek black car. The sign in his hand read Reid, polished letters against white card stock.

Maya arched a brow. “At least they didn’t forget us.”

Eliana chuckled as the driver took their bags. “Not with how much rent they’re paying, they didn’t.”

Their parents had arranged everything months in advance. A luxury apartment in one of Paris’s quieter districts, furnished and waiting for them. It wasn’t just a place to stay—it was a statement.

The ride from the airport was smooth, city lights flickering past the tinted windows. Paris looked both familiar and strange after so many years. Maya leaned back, arms folded, her tone casual. “Do you think it’ll feel like home again? Or just… different?”

Eliana tilted her head, thinking. “Both, maybe. I guess we’ll see.”

Soon the car turned onto a wide street lined with elegant buildings. The driver slowed, pulling up in front of a cream-colored residence with black balconies and tall windows. It looked straight out of a magazine—grand but tasteful.

“Wow,” Maya said impressed. “They really didn’t hold back.”

Inside, the lobby gleamed with polished marble and soft lighting. A concierge handed over their keys with a polite bow, and then the elevator carried them up to their floor.

Eliana tapped the brass key against her palm as the doors opened.

The apartment door swung open to reveal high ceilings, huge windows, and furniture that looked like it belonged in a design catalog. A wide living room stretched out before them, with a chandelier hanging above and a view of the Paris rooftops beyond the balcony.

“Definitely not a student flat,” Maya said with a low laugh, dragging her suitcase inside. “This screams ‘Daddy’s money.’”

Eliana shook her head but smiled. “And we’re not complaining.”

They explored a little—two large bedrooms, a marble bathroom, a kitchen stocked with basics. Maya chose the bedroom with the balcony, tossing her jacket on the bed. Eliana settled for the other without fuss.

By the time they regrouped in the kitchen, jet lag was already pulling at them. Maya opened the fridge, finding bottled water and a small basket of fresh bread left by the staff. She tore a piece off, chewing slowly. “Better than airplane food.”

Eliana laughed, setting her coat aside. “That’s not hard to beat.”

Maya stretched, her voice steady. “I’m going to shower.” Then left

Eliana went straight to her bedroom after unpacking a few essentials—clothes for the night, her skincare, her laptop, and personal items—she went to take a shower. The shower was warm and comforting, washing away the travel fatigue. Water running over her made her feel like she had finally arrived. By the time she stepped out, towel wrapped around her, she felt lighter, more awake.

Eliana woke in the late afternoon, her stomach growling. The nap had been long, and her body still ached a little from the flight. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stretched, letting out a soft sigh.

Before stepping out of her room, she grabbed her phone and scrolled through nearby bistros. A cozy place with warm lighting and good reviews caught her eye. She tapped a few times and booked a table for 6 p.m. Perfect for a relaxed first evening.

With that done, she walked into the living room where Maya was scrolling on her phone. “Dinner’s in an hour,” she said casually. “Time to get ready.”

Maya glanced up and grinned. “Got it.”

Eliana returned to her room to get ready. Standing in front of the mirror, she studied herself. Hazel eyes, bright and observant, looked back at her. Her dark brown hair fell in loose waves just past her shoulders. She had a soft, feminine figure— medium-sized boobs, curvy and confident. Not too tall, not too short, just enough to carry herself with calm grace. Her skin had a warm, healthy glow from the afternoon light sneaking through the curtains.

She picked a simple outfit: a fitted white top that hugged her chest, tucked into a black skirt that reached mid-thigh. She added low, stylish heels—practical, but polished—and ran her fingers through her hair one last time, smoothing away a stray curl. A touch of mascara and pink lip gloss completed the look, simple yet flattering.

By the time she stepped out, she felt ready—fresh, put-together, and confident.

The sisters walked through quiet Parisian streets. The evening air was cool, carrying faint smells of bread and coffee from nearby cafés. Streetlights cast a soft glow on the pavement, making the city feel welcoming and gentle.

At the bistro, warm wooden tables and soft lighting created a cozy, intimate atmosphere. Eliana settled into her seat, adjusting her skirt comfortably. She ordered roasted chicken with a side of fresh vegetables and a small salad. Maya chose something similar, quietly taking in the ambiance.

They ate slowly, savoring each bite, letting the flavors and the calm city atmosphere sink in. Eliana smiled to herself, appreciating this gentle start to their time in Paris.

After dinner, the sisters strolled back to the apartment. The streets had grown quieter, the city bathed in golden streetlights. Eliana felt a gentle thrill at being here again, in this city she had once called home.

Back at the apartment, Maya flopped onto the couch, scrolling her phone again. “I could get used to this,” she said, smiling.

Eliana decided to call her mom, “Hello, Mom?” she said warmly when her mother picked up.

“Eliana! Did you arrive safely?” her mother’s voice was full of relief.

“Yes, Mom. We did. Paris is… beautiful,” she said, letting a little laugh escape.

“And Maya?” her mother asked.

“She’s here, hold on for her,” Eliana replied.

Maya chatted for a few more minutes with their mom and then ended the call with promises to call again in the morning.