Episode 2

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.

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