"Must be some kind of star. Have you seen it before?" – I heard a quiet female voice say.

– "Must be a model… Or a millionaire's wife. Yeah, well, look how much plastic surgery she has on her face!" – a second female voice replied in an affirmative tone.

Aha! Mistaking my vampire perfect beauty for plastic! Let them! Pathetic envious mortals!

But, fortunately, my person did not cause much of a furore, and the voices subsided as quickly as they had raised a low rumble of surprise.

"Coming to see you," I wrote to Misha, now safe from the sun. After thinking for a moment, I sent: "Is Fredrik with you? I hope I'm not disturbing you?".

"He's leaving. I'm waiting for you!!!" – Misha replied.

"He's leaving… Of course, he suddenly had some very important business to attend to! Misha should have only had to inform him of my upcoming visit!" – I smirked.

I left the limo at a small station near the lake. Misha came to pick me up in Fredrik's Mustang. Same old Mustang. It was high time to change it for something better and more modern. But of course Fredrik would never do that.

Thanks to a small cloud that covered the sun for a few seconds, I quickly slipped into Misha 's car, and we left the station, heading for a lake house I'd never been to before. Of course, I'd been invited a long time ago, and more than once, but I'd always failed to make the flight – my career had grown too fast over the past eight years.

Misha was beautiful: dressed in tight black jeans, her husband's long dark green T-shirt and sneakers. Her hair was damp and braided into a long shaggy braid, which, however, suited her pretty face.

– Since when did you start wearing your boring husband's clothes? – I asked with a laugh.

– When you wrote, I was swimming in the lake. There was no time to think about wardrobe, you know! – laughed at this Misha laughed. – So I wore the first thing I saw. Fredrik had just changed his shirt before he left, and left this one on the back of a chair in the living room.

– Where did he go?

– Stockholm.

– Did he have business there? – I grinned.

Wow, he didn't want to see me so badly that he didn't even bother to throw his T-shirt in the wash, just left it in the living room! That's not nice.

– No, he's just giving me time and space to be with you," Misha replied with a smile, not taking her eyes off the road.

– What do you mean? – I asked in a nonchalant tone.

– I'd known for a long time that you can't stand each other's company. Don't deny it," Misha said cheerfully, glancing at me.

– Shit. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is. But I was hoping you didn't realise that. How long have you known? – I was honest. I was embarrassed that she'd known all along. Knew and pretended not to notice.

– A long time. You've been avoiding each other so obviously! But it's okay. I've accepted it. I love my husband and I love you, and since you can't be in the same room without disliking each other, well… I'm fine with that system. – Misha smiled a calm smile and shrugged her shoulders.

I looked at my little sister and I found it hard to believe. Is that my Misha?

She's grown up so much. No longer the hyper-emotional girl who'd gone off to study at Oxford. In the eight years she's been married to Fredrik, she's changed. Why didn't I notice it before? I was used to thinking of her as a little sister – reckless, inexperienced, impulsive. But now I realised clearly that that little girl was gone. And it was a little hard for me to accept that. To accept that she had changed, while I was still the same.