CHAPTER 2
How did she even end up in Singapore?
That question wouldn't leave me alone. It sat in my chest like a stone, heavy and irritating, refusing to shift no matter how many times I turned on that bed.
Sleep?
Yeah… that wasn't happening.
I pushed the covers off me and grabbed my laptop, the glow from the screen slicing through the darkness of the room. My fingers hesitated for a second before opening the email Marissa had sent.
There she was.
Violet Knowles.
I stared at her picture longer than I'd like to admit.
She didn't look like me. Not even a little. No resemblance to grab onto, no familiar feature to claim. It was like looking at a stranger… a complete stranger.
But damn… she was beautiful.
Light skin. Smooth. Petite body like she was carved carefully, intentionally. The kind of woman people turned their heads for without realizing they were doing it.
I leaned back slowly, exhaling.
She looked… put together. Clean life. Soft life.
Everything mine wasn't.
She worked at some big web development company. No kids. Lived alone.
Free.
The word hit me harder than it should have.
Free.
I stayed up the entire night going back and forth in my head like a mad woman.
Should I go see her?
Should I leave it alone?
What if she hates me?
What if she doesn't even want me?
But at the end of it all… she was my sister.
Blood doesn't ask for permission to matter.
Morning came whether I liked it or not.
I walked downstairs looking like I hadn't slept—because I hadn't—and Lupita was already there like she owned the sunrise.
She handed me a smoothie.
Green.
Too green.
I looked at it. Then at her. Then back at it.
My face must have said everything because she rolled her eyes.
"It's good for you, just drink it."
I took a sip.
Nothing.
No taste. No soul. No purpose.
Just… blended grass.
I pulled the glass away slowly like it had personally offended me and handed it back.
"So, are we going to meet Violet today?" she asked casually.
I froze.
"…How do you know about Violet?" I narrowed my eyes at her.
She didn't even bother looking guilty.
"Marissa told us before she told you."
Of course she did.
Lupita stretched like nothing mattered, already moving on with her day. She changed into her running clothes like this conversation didn't just flip something inside me.
I stood there for a moment longer.
Why Singapore though?
Why here?
Out of all places in the world… why did she have to be here?
It didn't sit right.
Nothing about it did.
I didn't give myself time to think too much after that.
If I did, I'd talk myself out of it.
I got in the car and drove to her workplace.
The entire drive felt longer than it actually was. My thoughts were loud… messy… stepping over each other.
Did she know about me before?
Was I just some story someone told her?
Was I a warning?
I pulled up at the building and just sat there for a second, staring at it.
Big.
Clean.
Professional.
Her world.
I stepped inside and asked for her at reception.
"She's not in today."
Of course.
They asked me what my relationship to her was.
The word came out before I could filter it.
"Sister."
It felt… strange saying it out loud. Heavy. Real.
Because of that, they gave me her contact details.
I stepped out, staring at the card in my hand like it might burn me.
Call… or don't?
I was already here.
No point turning back now.
I dialed.
She picked up almost immediately.
"Hello, who is this?"
Her voice…
That accent.
African-French. Strong. Smooth. Sharp.
"Am I speaking to Violet Knowles?" I asked.
"Yes… who are you?"
There it was again. That pause. That edge.
"My name is Brandi Knowles… your sister. Mind meeting up for coffee?"
Silence.
Thick silence.
The kind that makes you wonder if the call dropped… or if you just said something you can't take back.
I almost hung up.
Then—
A sigh.
"Meet me in thirty minutes at Mimi's cafeteria."
Click.
Bossy.
Definitely my sister.
I was two minutes late.
Two minutes… and it felt like I had already messed everything up.
I walked into the café and spotted her immediately.
Last table.
Sitting like she belonged everywhere she existed.
She was even prettier in person.
It hit me so hard it caught me off guard.
My eyes burned.
Tears threatened.
But I swallowed them.
Not here. Not in front of her.
I walked up, pulled out the chair, and sat down across from her.
She didn't say anything.
Just looked at me.
Studied me.
Like she was trying to decide if I was worth the oxygen.
The silence stretched… uncomfortable… suffocating.
I broke it.
"Hey… it's me. Your sister. Brandi."
She took a slow sip of her coffee before speaking.
"You know I've seen this kind of shit in movies… where a sister just appears out of nowhere and acts like everything is okay."
Her eyes locked onto mine.
"I never thought it would happen to me."
There it was.
That sarcasm.
Sharp. Dry.
Familiar.
"Yeah… well," I swallowed, "I guess it happened to us."
God… I sounded stupid.
I didn't know how to do this.
How do you be a sister to someone you just met?
How do you fill years of nothing?
A lump formed in my throat.
I hated it.
Hated feeling like this.
She leaned back slightly, her expression changing.
"You know I only found out last year that I had a sister."
Pause.
"A criminal sister."
Another sip.
"A wanted one."
Her lips curved slightly.
"A sister on red notice… what a sister."
Every word landed exactly where it was meant to hurt.
I felt it.
I wasn't the type to sit there and be judged. Not by anyone.
Especially not someone who didn't know the full story.
But I held it in.
Barely.
She finished her coffee and cake like the conversation meant nothing.
Then—
"You're paying for this. Your first big sister duty."
I almost laughed.
Almost.
I paid.
Of course I did.
"I have to pick up my son," I said.
Her head snapped up.
"You have a son?"
Shock. Real shock.
"Yeah."
She stared at me for a second… then nodded slowly.
"Give me your address. I'll come visit."
I gave it to her.
Just like that.
I was about to get into my car when—
"Don't think I forgive you."
I stopped.
She got into her car like she hadn't just dropped that on me.
And drove off.
Just like that.
Forgive me?
For what?
I stood there for a second, gripping my car door tighter than necessary.
It wasn't my fault.
I didn't know she existed.
We were both kept in the dark.
If anything—
She should be the one apologizing.
For her mother.
Because my father saw her mother… and walked out on mine like she was nothing.
Left her to rot.
Left me to grow up without him.
So no…
I wasn't the one who owed anyone forgiveness.
Not this time.