Nearly 3 years had passed since the day Rosalie last spoke to her father. He hadn't bothered to call and check in on her since the day she left, and Rosalie hadn't felt any reason to take the initiative either.

3 years had changed nearly everything about her, if she was honest, but not the stubbornness that had led her to America - and away from her father - in the first place.

She knew it'd be hard, of course. How hard, though... yeah, she'd had no idea what it meant to live like a 'normal' person with normal means. Not really.

Turns out, life isn't like the novels.

She'd dealt with everything from learning how to simply manage basic finances to culture shock - especially at the Americans she originally thought must hate her, though she couldn't figure out why.

Given time, she learned Americans are just very, very blunt... so blunt that it felt insanely rude at first. On the flip side, they smiled constantly, helped people without expecting anything back, and were open in a way she could never be in her own country.

Once she got over the fact that they seemed to want to smack her in the face with their thoughts and opinions even if they were strangers, Rosalie had actually discovered she found their straight forward nature really refreshing.

Not enough to stay a second longer, Heavens no, but enough to not have regretted her decision to come in the first place. The novelty had worn off a long time ago, though, and - while she'd admit her own country had its issues - she was ready to go home.

Where American had humbled Rosalie, it had sharpened Lucas.

He'd been loved before he left Asia. A golden boy, as the Americans would say. Attractive, smart, and wealthy - he was the trifecta at home. Then he'd come to America where everything from his hooded eyes to his thick accent brought him attention he wasn't used to.

Some of it was just curiosity that became rude without meaning to.

Some of it was pure hatred at his existence, and he never truly figured out why.

By the time they boarded the plane together, they both had quieted from the versions of themselves that had disembarked at the same airport several years ago.

Where once her words were sharp and cutting, they were now warm and had softened around the edges. She listened more, spoke after thinking about what the words would do to the person receiving them, and took the time to notice things she hadn't back when designer labels had told her all she thought she needed to know. She had learned the value of a dollar and the cost of thoughtless words the hard way.

In his case, his words were fewer and they now had a cooled edge that hadn't been there before. Removing his status and his name had removed the protective bubble he hadn't even realized he'd been wrapped in, and he'd learned a lot about people, about society, and about himself when he didn't have that shield. He wasn't jaded, not quite, but he was far more careful and far more reserved than he had once been.

Rosalie and Lucas had also grown closer than ever, bonding over the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly that had been their years abroad. It was that bond that had them holding hands as they boarded the plane, both looking like they'd matured a decade rather than just a few years in the time they had been gone.

Over 17 hours later, they stepped off the plane and back on the soil they'd both run from - and had missed desperately.

"Do you think they've all forgotten us?" Rosalie mused as they walked slowly away from the terminal and toward the gate.

"Well, you went way farther than I did," Lucas chuckled, "Deleting all your social media accounts and starting new ones when you arrived in New York, getting a new phone and only keeping like three contacts... so, for you? Hell, maybe."

"You kept in contact with everyone?"

"Not really," Lucas admitted, his lips twitching down in honesty, "I realized over time that a lot of those people weren't good for me. I didn't delete them though, or block them. I just stopped reaching out and stopped responding. Eventually, things faded away naturally."

"Do you prefer it?" Rosalie asked quietly, keeping pace with him just as he was matching his pace to hers.

"Yeah," he said, his voice quiet, "I do."

"Me too."

It wasn't a lie. Since removing all of the connections Rosalie had before, she'd noticed her world had become quieter. Not just digitally, but mentally and emotionally. She discovered that the social media world and the constant texts had her feeling a constant need to check in, keep up, and prove something. When she'd first removed it all, she nearly went twitchy at the way all that energy suddenly didn't have anywhere to go.

After she adjusted, though, she realized all that worry and anxiety melted away when she gave herself the space to breathe. At first that energy went into her studies, and now it went into her designs.

"Have you told Mom yet?" Lucas broke Rosalie out of her mental spiral, drawing her attention back to him.

"I haven't," she admitted softly, "I was honestly worried she'd tell Dad... and he might sabotage it."

Rosalie trusted Lucas more than anyone in the world now, so she didn't mince words with him.

"When do you get the results?"

"They're probably already in my email. They should have arrived while we were on the plane."

"What?!" Lucas gasped, his steps faltering and his eyes bugging out, "And you haven't checked yet?!"

"I... I'm nervous," Rosalie whispered, holding his eyes with a brutal vulnerability that had him closing the distance and wrapping his arms around her, "What if I didn't get it? What if... what if he was right all along, Luke?"

"He wasn't," Lucas insisted firmly, "He was wrong, and you're going to prove it. If you don't get it, you'll try again. Because that's who you are, Rose. You're a fighter. You always have been, and that's the spirit that sets you apart."

"Should... should I open it?"

"Uh, yeah! Obviously!" he scoffed, pulling back and resting his hands on her shoulders, "Come on, stand over here and open it. Right now. Right here."

Lucas tugged Rosalie off to the side, and watched her pull her phone out with shaking hands and trembling eyelashes. He gave her the space she needed though, having learned that she preferred to save herself rather than being saved.

It was an agonizing minute and a half while she figured out how her fingers worked again and finally found the email in her inbox.

'JMA International Jewelry Design Competition Winner: Guest Designer Capsule Collection Decision'

"Well that's a mouthful," Lucas muttered to himself, raising an eyebrow at the email subject, "You can't even read the whole thing without clicking to expand it."

Rosalie breathed out a laugh that was half exasperation and half genuine amusement.

"Open it, Sis," Lucas finally nudged after she'd been staring at it for a beat too long.

Closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath, she clicked the link - then oh-so-slowly peeked one eye open to actually look at it.

She froze.

All she saw was the word 'congratulations' before Lucas roared out in excitement - picking her up and spinning her in a circle before she could even process what had just happened. A squeal escaped her before she could stop it, followed by uncontrollable giggles.

They didn't care that everyone in the hallway nearly leapt out of their skin at the sudden outburst, or how they were being eyed with open disdain at their behavior. They were lost in their celebration as the truth - the reality - sank in.

"I did it," Rosalie whispered, her feet finally back on the ground and her head resting against his chest, "Luke... I'm going to design my own collection for Chow Tai Fook..."

"Yeah you are," Luke said softly, his eyes fierce with pride, "Because you were always an incredible designer. This time, no one can say a word."

"This time," Rosalie breathed, looking up with a look that only made Lucas' pride flare, "I'm not going to fail."

"I know," Lucas said simply, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "and this time, I'm going to back you all the way. Dad's opinion be damned."

And he meant it. Lucas had learned a lot in the past few years, but one of the things he'd taken away from the Americas was that a parent that holds a child back for their own selfish reasons wasn't one to idolize.

Rosalie was right all those years ago - and Lucas had no interest in repeating his father's mistakes. No, he'd respect his father, but he was done following him blindly. He'd go home, inherit the company, and then run it his way.

Which included supporting his sister rather than trying to benefit from her struggles.

The siblings smiled brightly at each other, finally stepping apart and returning on their journey to the exit - and toward the new path they'd both forged for themselves.