Page 149 of Chasing Gold, Catching Her

For a second, Alisa felt like she might cry right there on the spot.

Tora’s father helped them take off their jackets with careful politeness and guided them toward the coat rack like they belonged there naturally.

“Sit down, dear ladies!” he said with an easy, charming smile, pulling out chairs for both of them.

He seated Tora and Alisa side by side across from the parents, and almost immediately a waiter appeared with menus.

“Does everyone agree on red wine?” Tora’s mother asked calmly.

Everyone nodded.

The waiter took their orders and returned quickly with a bottle, opening it right there in front of them with practiced elegance before pouring the first glass.

He handed it first to Tora’s mother, who accepted it with a small smile and tasted it carefully—just a sip—like she was evaluating something far more important than just wine.

She had the same kind of calm, composed beauty as Tora, even in the way she held the glass.

Then the waiter poured for everyone before quietly stepping away, leaving them alone.

Tora raised her glass immediately.

“Well, girls, here’s to winning the Olympics!”

“For the winning!” her father echoed proudly.

“For the winning!” Tora repeated, turning her gaze toward Alisa with a bright smile.

Alisa rolled her eyes slightly, but a faint, ironic smile still slipped through.

“Yes… for the winning.”

They clinked glasses and took a sip together.

“Now, Alisa,” Tora’s mother said warmly, leaning forward a little, “tell us about yourself.”

“Mom, you already know everything about her,” Tora interrupted immediately.

“Shh, Tora,” she replied softly but firmly. “I want to hear it from her.”

Alisa exhaled, then leaned back slightly in her chair, thinking for a moment as if trying to summarize her entire existence in a single sentence.

“Well…” she began slowly, “I’m an Olympic silver medalist from the 2026 Games.”

The table chuckled in unison.

“Well, that part is obvious,” Tora’s father said amusedly.

Tora’s mother let out a soft, almost childlike giggle and took another sip of wine, gently swirling it in her glass.

“Okay,” Alisa continued after a pause, “I live in… well… I guess I lived in Saint Petersburg for a while… but I’m originally from Novosibirsk.”

“Ah… and where is that exactly?” Tora’s father asked politely.

“It’s in Siberia.”

“Aaaah, I see,” he nodded, as if the explanation had suddenly solved a great mystery.

For a second, it was clear none of them had ever really heard of Novosibirsk before.