2001 - Standford, California

Sara Briggs sat at the desk in her small student accommodation at Standford University. She was leaning back on her chair, staring at the screen of her Word document on her laptop, the blinking line showing that she had yet to write a single thing aggravating her. She groaned, rubbing her hands down the front of her face. This was it. Her final work. All Sara had to do was write a twenty-page original document about a topic of her choice, yet her mind was pulling a blank. Her green eyes moved to the hefty book on her desk—volume One of The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Rome was a pivotal human empire whose actions and education shaped the world as we know it into what it was today. Things taught back in twenty-seven BC are still being taught today. Hell, even their architecture had survived. It's why she picked it.

She picked the book up, running her fingers down the worn cover. Her parents had bought her the set for her sixteenth birthday after she had chosen her dream major. The books had cost them so much. While most got a new car for their sixteenths, she got books, and she didn't mind it. Sara still remembers her young brother, Aaron, mocking her about it. Sara sighed, shaking her head at the memory, returning the book to her desk. Her eyes moved back to her laptop before slamming the lid closed. Moving forward in her seat, she began to pop the joints in her back and neck, glancing at the clock. The twenty-two-year-old sat in the same spot for over two hours with nothing to show. She was glad her roommate and friend, Emma Dolton, was busy with classes. She didn't need the blonde lecturing her about not working.

Sara and Emma had met on their first day at Standford, having been assigned to live together, and the pair quickly became good friends. The blonde was working on a Bachelor of Computer Science, while Sara had made the Bachelor of History her focus. As their courses would take four years to complete, they found it easier just to continue to room together for the length of their studies. It was better than getting new roommates each year and hoping they didn't get some annoying dud who constantly pestered them.

Sara swore under her breath when she heard the faint click of the room door unlocking, and she swivelled in her chair to face Emma, who was staring back at her with a single raised eyebrow, a quizzical look on her face. The blonde sighed, kicking the door closed behind her and tossing her book bag onto her bed.

"Be honest," Emma started, glancing at her friend from the corner of her brown hazel eyes. "How much did you get done."

"None," Sara spoke, her mouth forming a straight line as she fought back a smirk, knowing the lecture that was coming her way.

Emma turned fast, hands on her hips as she leaned over her friend imposingly. "Sara Evelyn Briggs! You got just over two weeks left! What is wrong with you?!"

Sara stared at her, answering flatly, yet her tone hinted at her amusement. "Well, there's clearly something." Emma frowned, her right eye faintly twitching as she processed her friend's words. The blonde groaned loudly, almost sounding like a yell, as she fell back onto her bed, narrowly missing hitting her head against the wall it was pushed up against. Sara sighed, rising from her chair and laying down beside Emma. "It's hard to write an original piece. Like Rome, it influenced so much, and it's also funny how fucked up it was, yet we still admire the Romans, despite the orgies, slavery and shit."

Emma turned her head to look at her friend. "Can't write about that?"

Sara snorted, looking at her friend so they were face-to-face. "The professor has such a stick up his ass. He'll just want me to talk about how great Rome was and how it is horrible how the Empire ended as it did, and that it should have continued on! I'm amazed it lasted as long as it did."

Emma chuckled, enjoying her friend's small rant. "Do it. I want to hear all about him raging at your report." Sara laughed with her, tempted by the idea.

"How are you going to finish up your stuff?"

Emma sighed, gazing to look up at the ceiling. "Almost done. I just need to prep for the final exam and finish my last assessment. It's about halfway done." Sara nodded. She was happy for her friend that Emma had been successful in getting all that tiring and hard work done, to see the end of all of it, to walk that stage and finally getting her diploma. Sara could only pray that she had what it takes to get there in time. Two weeks was a very short time, and it would go fast. She knew that—two weeks to complete a twenty-page document and prep for her final exam while still managing her classes. The young woman was fortunate that her parents had supported her enough that she didn't need to work while studying. Emma sat up on her bed, gazing at her friend's laptop. "You going to get to it? If you can write two pages daily, you'll finish it in time."

Sara groaned, sitting up as well. "You might have to tie me to that chair."

"Don't tempt me." Emma retorted, a smirk playing on her lips.

Sara laughed, nudging her friend. She stood up from the bed, returned to her desk, and she reopened her laptop. "Okay, write about the fucked up history of Rome with its orgies, rape, slavery and murder."

"All the good stuff?" Emma asked, opening up her bookbag and pulling out her own laptop. Sara hummed, a smile playing on her lips as she finally began to write, the fast clicking of her keyboard filling the quiet room, as Emma's own faint clicking could be heard.

"All the good stuff." Sara sang, her tone light as she finally had her plan. Her profession wouldn't be happy with the report, and if the old man dared to fail her on it, she would take it up with the education board. Her parents had made plenty of donations to the University, so there would be some influence there.

The pair continued to work in silence over the next few hours; the only sounds were the clicking of the keys of their laptops and the occasional grunts and sighs as the women encountered complex parts of their work. From time to time, Sara would swear as she found a problematic part of her report where she'd have to go through her books, look for the relevant topics to cite her work, and provide factual evidence behind what she had written.

The soft knocking at the door caused her to pause as the third volume of her copy of The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire was in her lap. Sara glanced at Emma, who was looking back at her just as confused. The pair turned their heads to the clock, showing that it was well past nine at night, as the knocking continued. Emma was the first to stand, shoving her laptop aside as she went to the door, unsure who would come to their room at night. Most would either be sleeping because of early morning classes the next day or studying themselves, as the final two of the university year were always crunch time for students. And they doubted it would be a neighbour asking them to be quieter, as the girls weren't making a sound unless furious typing counted.

Emma opened the door, coming face-to-face with the dorm's resident assistant, Rebecca Mort, a tall thin woman whose face resembled that of a shrew. Emma pursed her lips at the woman as the RA stood there with her arms crossed, clearly annoyed at having to come to visit the girl's room.

"Yes?" Emma bit at the woman, earning a snort in response. Rebecca merely offered over a sealed envelope, which the blonde took tentatively. The moment she had it in her grasp, Rebecca stormed off, muttering under her breath, her voice just as shrill even when whispering. Emma shuddered as she shut the door, earning a chuckle from Sara, who had witnessed the entire exchange. "God, she is such a bitch. Not even a good fuck could fix her attitude."

"Only a fucking from Zues could possibly fix that." Sara retorted, her head going back to her book.

Emma looked over the envelope in her hands, her brows rising as she noticed Sara's full name written on the front in horrible cursive. "It's for you." The blonde offered it to her friend.

Sara looked up from her book again as she took the sealed paper from her friend's hand. Shutting the book and dumping it beside volume one, Sara took the envelope, looking it over. She didn't recognise the handwriting, which had been hand-delivered, meaning it had come from a male, as men weren't allowed in their dormitory. Emma sat on her bed, watching Sara carefully hook a finger under the seal, rip it open, and pull out the contents—a single letter.

Her brows furrowed as she read the letter at first, unsure of why someone would deliver her a handwritten note. Still, as she took in its contents, she struggled to breathe, gripping the letter tighter, brows twitching as she struggled to control her emotions.

Emma shot up from the bed, ripping the letter from Sara's hands as her eyes poured over it. Written in the same hand as the envelope was a letter to Sara, from her brother, but not her little brother Aaron, with whom she had a love/hate relationship, but a man named Nathan Drake. Sara's biological brother. A man she'd never known, having just been a baby when she was abandoned at an orphanage and adopted by Jonathan and Sherry Briggs, wealthy lawyers from Boston, Massachusetts, who had from themselves unable to have their own children, as the two of them had been infertile, so they sort to adopt. First, it was Sara in 1981 when she was shy about her second birthday, and Aaron in 1984. Sara had always known she was adopted. Her parents didn't try to hide it, nor did it make them love her and her brother any less.

"Sara…" Emma started, looking away from the letter in her hand. The blonde knew her friend was adopted, and it wasn't something she hid. "Do you really have a brother? A biological one?"

Sara shook her head. "I was just a baby. I know nothing about my birth family."

Emma's face was grim, glancing back at the letter. She read over it again, reading its contents aloud:

"Dear Sara Briggs,

You may not know me, but my name is Nathan Drake. I was born in 1975 to Miles and Cassandra Morgan in Boston, Massachusetts. In 1980, my mother passed away. My father, unable to deal with the loss, gave me and my older brother, Samuel, to Saint Francis' Boy's Home, where we became wards of the state. Our little sister, born in 1979, was given to Saint Francis' Girl's Home. Her name was Sara Evelyn Morgan.

A year ago, Samuel passed. It was hard on me, but it made me want to find my long-lost little sister. To find you. I do not know if you're aware that you're adopted, and I apologise if this news shocks you. I beg you to meet me at the cafe outside your dormitory tomorrow. I understand if you do not wish to meet, but I shall be waiting for you from nine to eleven.

Nathan Drake."

Emma finished reading, looking at her friend. Sara's eyes were closed, tears rolling down her face. Emma quickly hugged her, pulling her form close against her own to provide much-needed comfort.

"It matches…" Sara mumbled into Emma's shoulder, causing her friend to pull away to hear her better. "The dates, they all match. And the locations." Emma's mouth was drawn into a tight line as she studied her sobbing friend.

"You going to meet him?" Emma asked, kneeling beside her friend, staring up at Sara.

"Yes." She nodded, trying to calm herself down. "I will meet with him."

Sara stood outside the cafe. It was small in size, meaning there wouldn't be many customers to search through to find Nathan. Plus, the man would stand out compared to the university students, who would be rushing to their morning classes and looking like death itself. Sara was happy that she was at least able to get into four pages of her report before she received that letter, finding herself unable to continue with her work after readings its contents. She had debated contacting her parents to inform them of the letter but then decided against it. Until she could 100% confirm that this Nathan Drake was her biological brother, she would hold off on telling them. No need for them to go lawyer about the situation. She glanced at her wristwatch, noticing it was just after nine.

Emma stood next to her, dressed in some shoddy disguise like she was from a black and white noir film. Scarf wrapped around her head, and sunglasses that hid her eyes. It was earning odd looks from passersby, but the blonde didn't care. She was here to support her friend and ensure this Nathan man wasn't a weirdo. Emma clearly didn't see the irony when she made the statement to Sara as she put on her disguise. Or she didn't want to.

As the pair entered, Emma slipped into a booth by the entrance, giving her a view of the entire cafe as Sara looked around. There were a few people in the building, some being men. Biting her lip, she approached the counter where a waitress stood. "Excuse me. I'm meeting a man named Nathan." The woman eyed her before pointing to a table in the back. The gesture was lazy as if the worker wasn't being paid enough to be a hostess. Sara muttered a quick thanks as she approached the table. The man was sitting with his back to her, gazing outside the window as his hand traced around the rim of the coffee mug on the table before him. He had been so lost in thought he didn't even hear her approach. It wasn't till she said his name that his head snapped to her, eyes widening as he took her in.

Sara stared back at him with the same expression. The two of them could have been twins with how similar their features were, only that he was clearly masculine and hers feminine. They had the same eye colour and hair colour too. Sara swore as she slipped into the chair opposite him, her eyes still wide as she took him in.

"Well," He spoke softly, a slight smirk playing at his lips. "You're Sara."

"And you're Nathan." She spoke, returning his smile.

"Call me Nate." He breathed. "It's what Sam called me." When Nathan spoke his brother's name, his eyes dropped to his mug, frown pulling at his lips.

"In your letter…you said Samuel…sorry, Sam…you said he passed a year ago." She hesitated to ask him.

Nathan nodded. "Yeah, we were working a job with a friend in Panama…it didn't go well."

Sara's brows furrowed. "A job?"

"Uh, yeah…" Nathan looked back up at her, sparing a glance to the waitress at the counter and signalling the woman over. "I'm a treasure hunter if you can believe it." A small smile spread over Sara's face as she heard him, a brief chuckle leaving her lips. This earned a look from Nathan, who failed to understand the joke.

Sara had waved her hand before her face when she saw his expression, not wanting to worry him. The waitress had come over, placing a cup in front of her, filling it with coffee, and even touching Nathan's cup. "The irony."

"Irony?" He asked, taking a sip of the fresh coffee.

"I'm a history major." She stated, smirking when he almost choked on the liquid he was trying to ingest.

"Damn, it really does run in the family…" He mumbled. Nathan placed his cup down and reached for a bag by the legs of his chair, opening it up and pulling out a white journal, the initials C.M. embossing the front. He offered it to Sara, who took it. "This belonged to our mother, and she was an archaeologist and historian. Your middle name, Evelyn, was actually from her mentor." Sara bit her lip to hold back the tears that were stinging her eyes, her fingers tracing over the initials of her mother's name. She spotted a small piece of paper peaking out of the top of the journal and grabbed it. At first, she assumed it would be a photo of her mother. Instead, Sara found herself staring at a photo of two young boys, barely out of their teens, the older of the two wearing an explorer's hat and the younger what appeared to be a Roman soldier's helmet. "That's Sam and me."

Sara continued to stare at the photo of her eldest brother, a man she would never get the opportunity to meet. She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears again. "What was he like?" She asked, opening her eyes and meeting Nathan's fellow green orbs.

Nathan chuckled, his mind replaying memories of his brother. "He was a sarcastic idiot, always cracking jokes, even at worst times. But he also had a knack for getting himself into trouble." His smile fell as he added the last bit, hinting to Sara that his passing might have resulted from the man's reckless nature.

"More family-shared traits then," Sara commented, sliding the photo back into the journal. Nathan chuckled. He knew what she meant the moment the words left her mouth. She was as much a Morgan as he was. As Samuel was. She had offered the journal back to Nathan, but he shook his head, pushing it back towards her.

"I want you to read it, to understand our mother as we did. It's all we have left of her, I was too young to remember her face, and when our dad abandoned us, we assumed he got rid of all photos of her."

Sara nodded, placing the journal delicately on the table, treating it as a precious object. "And our father?"

Nathan shrugged, running a hand over his short hair. "I assume he's dead. My contacts couldn't find anything on him." He drank from his coffee again. Sara tentatively drank from hers, never having been big on coffee's bitter taste.

"Contacts?"

Nathan nodded. "It's how I found you and your records. My friend, Sullivan, Sully for short, knows some people who know some people." Sara nodded along with Nathan. She found it hard to listen to him as he described the childhood he and Samuel had at the orphanage and that Samuel got kicked out for his criminal activities. By the time he was fourteen, Nathan had ended up in Colombia, where he met Sullivan while pickpocketing to survive. Nathan had spent the last decade starting his life as a treasure hunter, and in the previous two years, before Samuel's passing, he and Samuel had been seeking to solve their mother's last work—Henry Avery's lost treasure. Sara's eyes sparkled as Nathan told her of his short adventures, listening intently as she drank her coffee.

"Henry Avery." She repeated the name. "I am a man a fortune, and I must seek my fortune." Nathan nodded as she stated the famous quote.

"You know your history well, then?"

"Well, I am a history major." She snorted, earning a chuckle from her brother. "For my sixteenth birthday, instead of a car, I got The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. First edition."

Nathan almost choked on his coffee again. "First?! Is that like worth twenty grand?" He was actually impressed. "I'm glad you've had a good start to life." His words were honest. While part of him was envious that she had access to things he and Samuel could have only dreamt about, he was thrilled that she hadn't experienced the hardships and suffering they had, that his baby sister had the world offered to her. He had witnessed the true cruelty of their world, and she had merely had a taste through his stories.

"I wish you and Sam did."

The siblings continued talking for over an hour, trading stories about their life. Emma even left once she was sure Sara was fine. Before Nathan went, and had given Sara his contact information and her his. When Sara returned home to her dorm later that morning, she felt different, like she wasn't the same person as she was before. It was true. She was no longer a baby who had been abandoned at Saint Francis' Girl's Home. She had an actual name given to her by a mother who loved her and a blood relative that was still alive. She had filled Emma in on everything she and Nathan had discussed, her friend thrilled for her, and when Emma left for her afternoon classes, Sara had rung her parents. It had felt different calling them that now when she knew who her birth parents were, but they had raised her and loved her when she had nothing else. When she was no one, they had made her into Sara Evelyn Briggs. Being the typical lawyers they were, they were septical, yet with coaching from Sara, they backed off with their concerns. Nathan wanted no more from her than to know her. To know his sister. He had felt only. He needed her.

She had sat on her bed, caressing the journal that Nathan had given her. Their mother's diary. She didn't hesitate to open it, wanting to read about everything her mother had written, admiring her beautiful handwriting, and even noticing that Nathan had added some notes of his own as he had continued his mother's work. It brought a smile to her face as she held the journal close to her chest.

She was Sara Evelyn Morgan, daughter of an archaeologist and historian.