Soft cool air flew through Mathilda's hair and tickled her neck. High above, seagulls circled and flew back and forth over the canal. Stretching her neck to watch them, Mathilda remembered that this was something she had always liked about their home in Strasbourg - being so close to water.

On their way to the bar, Mathilda grew wary. It was unusual for Gwen to give in on the twin talk so easily. Too many times before had they talked about the twin theory without any results. Perhaps she was in a good mood. This meant Mathilda had only one chance now to convince Gwen from what she saw. It better worked out.

"We're here," she announced.

They had passed a small alley that led them to a quiet square, the only noise coming from the rippling water of the fountain that stood in the centre. Across the street, a huge wooden door of the bar stood slightly open, with a sign above that said 'House Voltaire'. Through the windows Mathilda saw tables and chairs and people chatting. It was a busy place. Mathilda had thought it would only be like this in the evening, but even now in the middle of the afternoon, it was packed full.

"How do you even know she's here now?" Gwen asked.

Mathilda shook her head, determined that she was right. "I think she was wearing an apron when I saw her. She must work here."

"Did you talk to her?"

"No. Just saw her in passing. I doubt she noticed me."

Mathilda was aware that her fleeting moment with Gwen's future twin didn't speak of much confidence. Perhaps she should have planned this encounter first.

They stepped into the bright inside of the bar. It might have been the loud and lively atmosphere in this late afternoon and the sun light that pressed inside the large window fronts, but the place felt even brighter than the street outside. Mathilda looked around. The walls were clustered with photographs and posters and other gimmicks. In the right corner was the bar counter with a large sign above with the usual list of drinks and a big "Happy Hour 4-7pm" note.

With a sudden push from behind, a few guys passed her, entering the bar and joining their group at the table. In another corner three girls shrieked about the new song that started to play from the blaster above them. Gwen wrinkled her nose.

"I suppose this place is not to everyone's taste," Mathilda concluded.

Gwen nodded towards two empty stools at the bar.

"Did you see the twin similarities to that guy maybe?" she said, indicating the man behind the bar.

From her snarky tone, Gwen clearly wasn't taking it serious. But Mathilda wasn't going to give up now.

On their way over, they caught the bartender's eye. The man seemed surprised of their presence.

He blinked at them with a forced smile, as he put down a new batch of clean glasses on the counter in front of him. Polite but distant, Mathilda thought. As he reached the counter, he mustered Mathilda first, then Gwen.

"So ladies, what can I do you for?" he asked in a casual tone.

The question he really wanted to ask was, Why are you here?

It was wildly obvious that they, especially Gwen who came dressed like she was representing an important consulting firm, didn't belong to the usual happy hour crowd.

"We moved here a few weeks ago," Mathilda replied. "Checking out the best spots in the neighbourhood."

She gazed over the wall behind him. In between the shelves hung a few photos and pictures. In one of them she spotted the same bartender. Someone had scribbled under it: 'Colin, the best barman in the northern hemisphere'.

"And we heard that the best barman in the northern hemisphere works here," she added with a smug smile.

Colin raised an eyebrow but then gave a little a laugh. His posture loosened up.

After a pause, he asked: "Have we met before?"

"I think I'd remember that."

There was a disgruntled look around him. Working in a place like this probably did that to a person, Mathilda figured.

Then he reached under the counter and brought out two beers. He opened them and put them in front of the two women. He nodded and moved on to the other costumers.

"He didn't ask us what we want to drink," Gwen said, inspecting the beer with scepticism.

"We're not here to drink. We're here on a mission," Mathilda answered, determined that everything went according to her plan.

"Also, considering that you are hell-bent on finding our unknown relative in here, you were rather flirty with that stranger."

Not deeming this with an answer, Mathilda turned away from the counter and observed the crowd. Some guys next to the window were loudly engaged in a drinking contest while the people on the next table observed the competition with great judgement.

Cautiously, she glanced back to the bartender, Colin, who stood at the other end of the bar, talking to some customers. No, he obviously wasn't their relative, she was allowed to look.

Realizing that she had been staring for too long, she turned back to Gwen. But Gwen hadn't noticed her at all.

Instead she was focused on something in front of her.

"What is it?" Mathilda asked.

Pulled out of her thoughts, Gwen shook her head. "Nothing."

Mathilda's eyes flew over the array of photos until they stuck on the thing that Gwen had seen. In a group photo at the bottom of the collage, a woman with a familiar face was weakly smiling back at them. That was the woman she had seen. Looking back and forth, Mathilda confirmed that there were distinct similarities between her sister and the woman on the photo. The eyes. The nose. Only Gwen's hair was much darker than the woman's blonde curls.

"Oh my..." Mathilda gasped.

"Don't start," Gwen stopped her. "You're only seeing it because you want to see."

Mathilda barely listened. They had to find out who this woman was.

"Colin," she waved him over.

"Who is this woman in the picture there, bottom left?" she pressed him.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked her with a raised eyebrow.

Mathilda hesitated, helplessly looking at her sister. But Gwen emptily gazed at the photo in front of her.

"Uhm..." Mathilda began, "she owes me money."

Colin stared at her skeptically. "You are aware that you are a terrible liar, right?"

"Does she work here?" Mathilda asked.

"Why don't you ask her herself?" Colin replied, nodding at the entrance door.

As she twirled around, Mathilda spotted the woman from the photo immediately. In reality she looked even more like Gwen. A Gwen with blond hair, and who would willingly wear an apron.

Mathilda jumped off her bar stool, feeling adrenaline running through her veins.

The woman waved at some people at a table, and as she was about to take off her cardigan, she suddenly froze at the spot. Her eyes were on Mathilda and Gwen.

Mathilda could almost feel the woman's heart beat stop for a second and saw the blood rising into her face. Taking a quick breath in, the woman moved backwards, still with her terrified eyes on the two sisters. Neither of them spoke. Mathilda had no idea what to say. Then, without a warning, the woman turned around and disappeared through the large wooden door.

Gwen looked back and forth between Mathilda and the exit.

"What was that?" she asked.

"I don't know," Mathilda answered honestly.

Still focused on the exit, Gwen took a step forward. "I have the impression she knows us."

A second later they stood outside the bar on the empty road. The woman was nowhere to be seen. Where had she run off to so quickly?

Mathilda was about to suggest to go back inside and find anyone who might know her, perhaps Colin at the bar, when her phone rang.

"It's Peter," she whispered to Gwen.

Gwen rolled her eyes and moved away to give her some privacy.

Five minutes later Mathilda hung up again, and noticed that Gwen had gone back inside the bar. She was about to follow her, when Gwen appeared at the door.

"What did he want?" Gwen asked.

"He wanted to know what we were up to. Told him we went for a drink here."

"Captivating," Gwen replied unbothered. "While you were talking, I got some intel from her friends at that table. Turns out, this woman - her name is Rose - lives here. Upstairs on the top floor."

"How did you find out?" Mathilda asked impressed.

"I'm amazed that after five centuries you still haven't found out how to talk to people without suspicion."

"Shall we pay her a visit?" she added, checking the house for a private residence entrance.

"Wait," Mathilda considered her sister. "Does that mean you believe me? The twin thing?"

Gwen didn't answer right away. "No. But this woman clearly recognized us from somewhere. And from her immediate flight we can assume she's hiding something. I believe you when you say that something has led you here, Tilly. But perhaps this is not what you think it is. Perhaps she means us harm."

After she made out a small side entrance, she added: "Whatever this means, we have to find out why you were lured here."

Through a steep stairway, they climbed up to the top floor until they stood in front of the small apartment door.

The apartment was locked. Knocking came to no success.

"Alright then," Gwen concluded. "This is how far we will get with niceties."

She gestured Mathilda to step back, and with a precise and sharp kick into the old structure, the door opened with a loud crash. Unfazed, Gwen pushed the broken door aside and stepped into the dark room. All lights were out. Nobody was home.

In a weak attempt as to not break the door even more, Mathilda carefully pushed it shut behind them.

The small living room slash kitchen area had its only light source coming through the window which pointed to the small townhouse backyard. Another door led to a dimly-lit bedroom with its window shutters closed.

The whole place was inconspicuous. It was a tidy apartment of an average person.

"Let's see if your mysterious woman has anything to hide," Gwen said. "I'll take the bedroom, you search here."

Mathilda nodded and regarded the living room. When she had decided to start with the large drawer in the corner, her phone rang again.

It was Peter. Trying to focus on the task before her, she let it ring.

A few moments later she received a text from him, informing her that he'll join them soon in the bar.

No, she couldn't deal with him now. He'll have to wait and she'll think of an excuse later.

In the top drawer, she found a variety of gloves, shawls and winter accessories. In the second, a range of magazines and unopened letters, most of them old invoices and pamphlets.

"Mathilda!" she heard Gwen from the adjacent room.

A second later, Gwen appeared, a gleam of excitement and nervousness in her face. "I made two discoveries!"

"First, what do you make of this?" she proudly handed her a small weathered leather-bound book.

Mathilda took the old book into her hands. It was very old. As she turned it around to regard it from all sides, she saw the thin faded lines on the sleek cover. Slowly tracing them with her fingers, she followed the three leaves they represented. Almost invisible, they depicted a clover leaf. Her heart made a bump. She had seen this kind of clover many times before. After all, it decorated so many frames and pieces of furniture in their house. It was their family's sigil. Their clover.

"This woman knows our family," Mathilda added with a conclusion that only brought more questions.

"I found it under a loose floor board under her bed. I told you she was hiding something from us."

Steps on the stairs pulled them back into the present. Unless they wanted to jump out of the window, there was nowhere to go.

Without words they agreed to hide in the bedroom, behind the door.

"Rose?" a male voice sounded from the hallway. "Are you home?"

The door was pushed open, and quick footsteps echoed over the living room floor.

The sisters pressed their faces against the gap in the door frame and watched what was happening on the other side.

Supressing a loud gasp, Mathilda recognized the man. It was the same they had met earlier in the bar. Colin.

Was he friends with the woman?

He moved over to the drawer she had searched through a minute earlier, and opened it. He rummaged through the top drawer, and then moved on to the next one. It seemed he was searching for something as well. Then he proceeded with the large closet next to the drawer.

Gwen threw a sceptical glance to her sister. He was definitely not a friend of Rose.

Mathilda moved closer to the door to improve her view when the floorboards creaked loudly. Colin froze and turned his view right into their direction.

After a few seconds of silence, he asked: "Is anyone home?"

Then with cautious steps, he came towards them. Mathilda braced herself for confrontation.

Colin appeared in the door frame. When he saw the sisters he stopped into an abrupt halt.

"What on earth are you doing here?" he asked surprised.

Slowly catching on, he added with anger: "You can't break into stranger's apartments!"

"I'm pretty sure we're not the only ones here breaking in," Gwen countered.

Colin shook his head. "Why are you here?"

"This has nothing to do with you," Gwen said calmly.

Mathilda opened her mouth to support her sister's claims, when she heard the familiar sound of her ringtone once more.

She didn't need to check to know who it was.

"If you pick up your phone right now, I swear to-" Gwen snapped at her, but Colin interrupted her.

"You need to leave! You don't know what you're getting yourselves into!"

The phone kept ringing, when suddenly they heard more steps coming from the stairs. Rose was coming home. Nervously, Mathilda looked around in the small bedroom. This situation was getting out of hand.

Taking his cue to wait, Colin watched the entrance for her to appear. Although he was clearly breaking in, knowing Rose, he would have less trouble to make up an excuse.

It wasn't Rose.

The last person Mathilda would have expected announced himself in the room. Peter. He still had his phone in his hand.

"Peter, what are you doing here?" Mathilda asked in complete bemusement. "How did you find me?"

"I... I thought I heard your phone ringing up here."

"From outside?" Gwen asked with a raised eyebrow. "Do you have a dog's hearing?"

With a bemused look, Colin glanced from one to the other. "Is he with you?"

Yet Peter didn't seem to register him. He only watched Gwen. There was something funny about his look.

Then Mathilda realized that he wasn't looking at Gwen. His focus was at the object in her hands.

Protectingly, Gwen pulled the book closer to her chest.

"Peter," Mathilda asked confused, "what is going on?"

Peter paused. With a distant but determined gaze, he put his phone in his pocket.

Then he began, his voice deviatingly calm: "I was hoping it would take longer for you to find out. Not ideal, but it will do. I'll need that book now."

"What are you talking about?" Mathilda asked.

But Gwen had already caught on to his words, and took a step back, holding on to the small book even tighter than before. "No chance."

Mathilda didn't know what to do. What was happening? Why was Peter behaving so strangely?

Trying to uncharge the situation, she raised her hands: "There must be a misunderstandin-"

"Tilly, don't you understand?" Gwen snapped at her. "He played you! He was close to you to get to us! He knows what we are!"

Mathilda swallowed. No that couldn't be. They had been together for such a long time. It didn't make sense.

With a dry voice, she said: "No, that's not true. Right, Peter?"

Not registering Mathilda's words, his eyes stayed on Gwen, slowly turning into a dangerous glare. "I figured you wouldn't give it up freely."