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Vi didn’t know if Caitlyn had even opened her letter until the chem-baron showed up at The Last Drop, right as Vi was locking up.
They stood in the light of the neon signs, sizing each other up. Cold air nipped at Vi’s face and arms. Caitlyn looked anywhere but at her, mismatched eyes examining the street, the buildings, the smoggy night sky.
Finally, Vi found her voice. “You came.”
It didn’t feel like enough, but she didn’t know what else to say. She’d put so much into her letter, but there was so much she still needed to say. If only she knew where to start.
Caitlyn glanced at the bar behind her, left eye glowing a bright chem-tech green. “Are you going to invite me in?”
“Sure.” Vi tugged the door open, holding it for Caitlyn and gesturing her in.
Caitlyn’s heeled boots clicked against the linoleum floor, the only noise in the unnatural quiet of an empty bar. All night, it had been filled with raucous laughter, clinking glasses, and upbeat music drifting from the overhead speakers.
Vi locked the door, switched off the neon OPEN sign, and went to pour two shots. She slid Caitlyn’s to her, and they knocked them back at the same time.
The burn of alcohol still lingering in her throat, Vi pulled out two glasses with patterned gold borders. The ones Vander, Silco, and her mother had always used. The ones Vi only used for family.
Caitlyn’s breath caught in a way that suggested she remembered that. Vi handed her the glass of whiskey, fingers brushing where Vi’s wraps and Caitlyn’s fingerless gloves ended.
“I received your letter,” Caitlyn said, tracing a silver-painted nail along the patterns of her glass.
“Figured you wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Vi joined her on the patron side of the bar, leaving an empty stool between them when she sat. She sipped her whiskey, studying the chem-baron over her glass.
In some ways, Caitlyn looked like she always had. Sharp cheekbones, proud lips, nice clothes. Her hair was parted differently, a little longer than it used to be, but the same straight, dark blue.
In other ways, she was nearly unrecognizable. She wore a long, unfamiliar coat with a high collar, the fabric black with blue embroidery. It reached all the way to her knees, where her boots started. Her features were different too; she was thinner, older, with a scar cutting from left eyebrow to left cheek.
And, most obviously: her missing eye. A green orb glowed where before there had been a soft, bright blue.
Vi’s stomach twisted.
Caitlyn tapped the bar. “I heard you stopped pit fighting.”
Vi shrugged, cracking her knuckles, suddenly missing the exhaustion that came with back-to-back fighting. She felt too wired. “Decided to try to take care of myself — for Jinx and Isha. Before…”
“I heard.” For the first time in years, Caitlyn’s expression was soft. Like it had always been for Vi, back before everything went wrong.
Caitlyn, the merciless chem-baron who kept The Lanes in check with an iron fist that scared even Piltover, was never soft. And yet, here she was looking at Vi with something like genuine sadness.
“Yeah,” Vi said, trying to act like she wasn’t choked up.
“I’m—”
Vi held up a hand. “Don’t. Wasn’t your fault.”
Caitlyn nodded. They sipped their drinks. Vi wondered if the letter had been a mistake, if they could ever really go back to how things had been before. But that softness in Caitlyn was evidence that the person Vi had known was still in there somewhere.
Suddenly, Caitlyn stiffened. She swallowed the rest of her whiskey and said, “Then let me at least apologize for the things I have done.”
Vi stared straight ahead, trying to blink back the sudden wetness in her eyes. She’d known this would hurt, but she hadn’t expected how much it still ached.
After Caitlyn left, she had lived every day caught in a joyless routine of fighting, drinking, and passing out. Until Jinx had shown up with Isha, bringing color back to Vi’s world in bright, vivid bursts. They’d given her something to live for again. For a little while, at least.
“I forgave you a long time ago, cupcake. Just didn’t have the nerve to write you till now.” Caitlyn’s blue eye opened wide, emotion swimming in its depths. Vi added, with forced levity, “Thought you might’ve forgotten about me.”
“Never… I wish I had reached out sooner. You were always braver than me.”
Vi snorted. “Yeah, right. Look how long it took me to write you a letter—”
“But you did. I—I wrote you so many letters I never gave you. I convinced myself it was for the best, but really, I was hiding. You have every right to hate me.”
“I thought I did,” Vi admitted. “I think it just hurt too much to face. But… we’re here now.”
Caitlyn nodded, resembling a spooked deer as much as a chem-baron with a body count could. She shifted, pushing her coat off her shoulders. Under it, she wore only a dark waistcoat. And, on her left arm, scars had been tattooed over with purple flowers reaching from her elbow to her shoulder. Violets .
Vi’s hand shook as she traced her fingers over the tattoos, feeling the bumpy skin beneath. She couldn’t breathe. “How long?”
“Two years. They were a way to keep you with me.”
“They look good,” Vi forced the words through a tight throat.
Eyes still on the tattoos, Vi trailed her hand down, down, down. Until she could take Caitlyn’s in hers. As soon as their palms met, Caitlyn’s fingers were curling tightly around hers. Callused and scarred, but still soft.
Vi would never let go again.