27
KYRA
Kyra drifted behind her sisters as they pushed overflowing carts down the aisles of the supermarket. Soraya and Yasmin led the charge, consulting lists and debating quantities, while Parisa and Rana collected more items, their voices a comforting hum in Kyra's ears.
Their carts were filled to the brim with everything from canned goods to fresh produce. The shelves were a blur of color and brand names that Kyra barely recognized. She had never been one for shopping trips. Most of her remembered life, she'd acquired supplies by raiding the regime's installations.
The domestic scene felt alien yet familiar in some way, a reminder of bonds she'd been robbed of by time and cruelty.
She and Fenella hovered near the edge of the group, slightly apart but content to be included. The air was thick with the scent of disinfectant and artificial citrus, overlaid by the sharper tang of coffee from the in-store café.
It was a mundane backdrop for the tension coiling beneath her skin.
Instinctively, she reached for her pendant, closing her hand around the stone and taking comfort in its cool reassurance.
Was it cool, though?
It felt a little warm, but that could be just warmth from her body. She'd been walking for what seemed like hours, trudging through every aisle multiple times as her sisters searched for items.
"Do you think it's enough sugar?" Yasmin asked, balancing a jumbo bag on her hip.
"Two bags are enough," Parisa said as she eyed the bag. "Unless you want to focus on selling sweets."
"Not just sweets," Yasmin said as she dropped the bag into her shopping cart. "But you can never have enough sugar or flour."
"That's true," Parisa agreed.
Ahead of them, Soraya leaned over her cart to rearrange the contents to make room for a crate of canned olives.
"Apparently, one can never have enough olives either," Fenella whispered in Kyra's ear.
Kyra chuckled. "They are like kids in a candy store. Not that I know what kids in a candy store look like, but I imagine this is it."
Fenella shrugged. "You and me both, sister. I don't think I've ever been to a candy store."
The carts creaked as they kept going, forming a mini caravan as they finally headed toward the checkout lanes.
"Thank God," Fenella murmured. "Or the merciful Fates. I thought they would never be done."
"Isn't there anything you want to get?" Max asked from behind her. "Some Persian sweets, perhaps?" He dangled a box of candied fruit in front of her.
"You remembered." She snatched the box from his hands. "I love these."
Max looked smug, and Kyra felt a pang of jealousy over the history those two shared. She'd thought she was over that, and mostly, she was, but here and there the reminders irked. Did Max even know what her favorite sweets were?
"I got one for you as well." He produced another box from behind his back. "I know that you don't like things that are too sweet, but I thought you should try these. They are sweet and tangy at the same time."
Warmth spread through Kyra at his words, and she took the box from his hands. "Thank you. I would love to try them."
Soraya looked over her shoulder at the boxes of sweets with a disapproving expression on her face. "Those will rot your teeth, but since you don't need to worry about that, enjoy."
"Thank you," Kyra said with a smile. "I intend to."
She had no memories of their childhood together, and sometimes the weight of the years lost with her sisters felt as heavy as the years lost with her daughter. However, in the short time since they'd been reunited, she'd seen flashes of what might have been. Soraya's competence, Yasmin's empathy, and Parisa's attention to detail. And Rana's sarcasm. She wondered which traits they had inherited from their mother, and whichfrom their father. She didn't remember either, but her father had been the one who enabled all her suffering, so she hoped that she and her sisters were more like their mother than him.
They were stubborn and fierce, and watching them pile groceries onto the conveyor belt, Kyra realized that bonds of blood ran too deep to be erased.
As they reached the cashier, Jackson stepped forward, his wallet already in hand. "I'll cover it."
