So, we have left the three times the siblings saved each other behind, and are now entering the three times they could not save each other. Which means:

WARNING! Character Death! Expect the same warning on the next two chapters, too.


She is twenty-one. Her first mission for Mossad is over, and she returns with bruises and her first real battle scars. She is proud of them, proud that they show her devotion to her country and her job.

She does not have to call her father, because he debriefs her. She stands in his office and tells of her mission, of how she killed a man barely two months older than her by stabbing him while she was seducing him. How she ran into his brother afterwards, and how she barely managed to escape. She sees the curt nod, hears the small grunt and then she is dismissed, wondering if he gave his approval or if she disappointed him yet again.

She does not have to call her brother because he works in the same building and is breaking in a new recruit. She watches them spar and sees him kick the stranger's butt before they share a cup of tea and an awful lunch in the cafeteria. They talk, and she presses her lips together tightly. He pulls her with him, finds a supply closet and there, he embraces her and lets her cry for the life she has taken, the sin she has committed, lets her voice her doubts that what they do is the right thing. Then she thinks of her sister, sweet, innocent Tultul, and she does not know how she will be able to look into her eyes ever again. He tells her to simply try and talk to her. So she calls her sister.

Tultul's soft voice makes her heart dance and leap as she hears the excited shriek when the younger girl realizes her sister is back in the country, safely back with them. They talk for an hour, and then Officer Hadar tells her he needs her to sign a few documents. So she asks Tultul to come by her place in the evening, they can cook and talk and watch a movie and have insane amounts of popcorn, and maybe she can have a glass of that sweet white wine she took a sip of the last time she came around.

Her steps are light as she walks down the street to her apartment building. She moved out of the house when her time in the IDF ended and she officially joined Mossad. She just could not come home beaten up and bloody, and wake her sister while showering in the middle of the night and have her see the blood and wounds on her body. Tultul is too good, too precious to ever have blood on her hands. She is too innocent to know what the jobs of her siblings really entail. She is too empathetic to know it and not be sad for the lives they will be taking in the future. She is a healer, she will be a great pediatrician sometime in the future, save their lives while her siblings destroy those of others.

She starts fixing Tultul's favorite dish, or rather, the preparations for it. Because they both love cooking and have so much fun doing it together. She opens the bottle of wine she bought on her way home and pours herself a small glass, taking a sip of it and flinching slightly. She prefers red wine, dry and a bit bitter. Tultul loves white, sweet wine, served chilled. It is their secret. Their father does not know that his youngest daughter is drinking, and he will not learn of it from either one of them. She is not stupid and watches what Tultul drinks and how much. She will not allow for her to get drunk or have more than one glass of wine. When she drinks, she looks so much like an adult, with the glass in her hand, that it frightens her. Her little sister is sixteen years old, only one more year until she is finished with school and her mandatory time in the Army will come. But she cannot think of this now. Sweet, innocent Tali cannot be pictured in a uniform, or with a gun in her hand. She is compassionate and kind, not hard and cold like the metal of a weapon. Her mind is sharp, and not the edge of the knife that is hidden on her body. She would never be able to inflict pain on somebody else, and it is the biggest difference between them.

The telephone rings. Sirens echo in the distance as she answers the person calling her. It is her brother. For a second, she is confused. Then she realizes he is not calling her because work needs her and she has to cancel her evening with their sister.

Pictures assault her as she drops the receiver and collapses into a sobbing bundle on her hardwood floor. She clutches her Star of David as she cries out in anguish, feels pain so deep that she cannot breathe. She has just lost everything it is worth living for.

Hours later, she stands in a cold room. Her brother is standing next to her, holding her hand as she gives a curt nod. The ME pulls back the white sheet from the face of the body. She drops Ari's hand and takes three steps forward, leaning in. Carefully, she lifts her hand and brushes away a soft curl on her sister's forehead. Her eyes are closed; she looks so peaceful, as if she were only sleeping. But the stench of burnt flesh is in the air, and the ME has only pulled the sheet down enough to not cover her chin any more. There is only a small cut on her forehead and an abrasion on her left cheek; otherwise her face is as beautiful, as angelic as ever. It is the first time in four months that she sees her little sister. It is the last time she sees her except for her memories.


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