Riley's car rolled to a stop before a run-down building, the concrete facade etched and pockmarked by years of experience. A cracked and faded sign hung above the entrance. If she hadn't known what to look for, she would have missed the word 'gymnasium' written in pale letters nearly lost to the fog of time.
"This is the address." The driver glanced in the rear view mirror, an unspoken question in his eyes as to whether she wanted out in such a... colourful part of town.
She was a few minutes late, and two cars were already out front. Monica's white Mercedes confirmed she was in the right place. The adjacent parking space held a beat-up chevy that could easily belong to Sasha. She nodded to the driver, who let her out.
Timid steps carried her to the entrance, whispering through red and golden leaves strewn across the sidewalk. A note was taped in place above the knob, written in Monica's precise and flowing hand. Her initials. Just the sort of thing she had come to expect from Monica, and it stood out amongst the surroundings like a beacon.
She passed through the door. After leaving the autumn chill it seemed warm, almost like a sauna. Were all gymnastics halls kept so hot? Did they even call them 'halls'? Riley wrinkled her nose. It smelled like an old gym bag.
The foyer was dim, lit by the feeble red glow of the exit sign behind her and indirect white light that spilled from a doorway far to the right. Even in the gloom Riley could tell that the building's interior was equally run-down as the outside. What was Monica thinking, bringing her here? The place made her skin crawl.
A babble of voices mumbled through the open door. Riley tip-toed across the hard floor in silence, drawing near.
"... It's been thirty minutes. I have other things to do, I'm outta here."
Riley faltered at Sasha's harsh tone. How bizarre to hear her voice again, after being apart for so long. And disappointing that things turned out like they did.
She wanted to get along with her sister. Well... that was a colossal understatement. Seeing her again for the first time at the house kindled memories of shared sleeping arrangements made awkward and a shyness dressing around Sasha exacerbated by the approach of puberty.
The memories had nudged something loose in her mind - a thing glimpsed in dreams, but never acknowledged. She'd suddenly wanted more than to just 'get along'. And then Sasha had opened her mouth and ruined everything.
Monica sounded frustrated. "We've already put this meeting off twice. There are stipulations related to this delay you should be aware of, so I'd recommend you stay to hear them."
"What does that mean?"
"I'll tell you both once Riley arrives."
Riley used the pause in conversation to enter the illuminated room, a cavernous box filled with gymnastics equipment.
She knocked on the door frame to announce her presence and smiled at Monica. "Hi guys, sorry I'm late. The gate's been acting up at the house, and I had to let the driver in myself."
Sasha's silent glare made her want to turn and leave the room. Was it something she'd said?
Even Monica looked annoyed... as she could. She'd known her for nearly half her life, but most of the time she was impossible to read. "Riley, punctuality is important. I trust this won't happen again?"
Riley's vow to do better lacked conviction, but was enough to earn a sharp, almost military nod from Monica. "In that case, let's get started. There are two main points of business to address today," she said, and held up a finger. "One. Eight days have passed since our first... proctoring session at the house."
Riley recalled the culmination of that 'session' and an icy warmth crept up her neck. Sasha glared at Monica but seemed otherwise unaffected by the mention of their shared experience.
Monica, unfazed by the heat of Sasha's gaze, continued. "Per your mother's will, any delay longer than seven days between sessions necessitates the implementation of a time limit to achieve your respective goals."
Sasha looked furious. "How. Much. Time?" she asked, each syllable truncated and hostile.
"From tonight, you have six weeks to complete your challenges."
A jolt of surprise caught Riley in the solar plexus. "Six weeks?"
Sasha's scowl deepened. "Any other surprises we should know about?"
"Quite possibly, yes. Your mother wrote the will as a smart contract, with some clauses revealed only as certain conditions are met. In this case, I assume she was concerned that long delays between sessions would allow independent study, thereby subverting her intent to have you achieve your goals co-operatively."
Riley wore a grimace but smiled inwardly. Mom had known her so well - she had planned to do just that once she found out what her challenge was. This was a bit like playing chess with her from beyond the grave.
It was her turn to make a move, to test her mother's foresight. "Couldn't we still hire someone to teach us, instead of working together?"
Monica scanned through text on her phone. "That would be allowable, but you're unlikely to find someone else on such short notice with the availability and motivation you two share."
Dammit, Mom might be right. Riley would have to make some calls later to see if it was a bluff, but for now she'd play along.
"What about me?" Sasha's voice rose. "I can't afford to take the next six weeks off work to play Mom's game."
Monica had an answer ready. "Your mother's estate has set aside a stipend to pay for your living expenses should this clause come into play."
"There's no way they'll give me the time off..."
"If you complete your challenge, you'll never need to work again."
That got Sasha's attention. The anger bled from her face and she nodded absently, as though to herself.
"And you, Riley?" Monica asked.
Riley considered her situation, not for the first time since Mom died. She had her high school diploma, but no marketable skills or experience doing anything useful. The time limit wasn't a deal breaker by itself, but what exactly was she signing up to?
"Can we talk about what my challenge is, first?"
"We can." Monica gestured broadly at the equipment, "I'm sure you've noticed your surroundings. You may not be aware, but your sister is an accomplished gymnast and qualified instructor. She will be training you to complete a Level 2 USAG floor routine. To my satisfaction."
