1st December, 2019.

Most of the country was basically frozen by this time of year, already buried under multiple meters of snow, with people bundled up in four or five layers trying their best to keep out of the blistering cold.

Luckily, San Francisco was not most of the country.

Radha Ishwar counted herself lucky that she got to live in a city that experienced “perpetual autumn”, and all she needed in this weather was her faithful old college hoodie. At least, that’s what she felt as she walked over to the café down the street from her apartment building on that perhaps not-so-fateful morning.

She’d received a mysterious, but somehow completely expected email about a week ago, from someone called “Erin”. Apparently this “Erin” was related to her somehow, and found Radha through an online ancestry database after doing one of those at-home tests. Now, Radha actually knew exactly who this was, and the tools to prove it were currently with her, in her backpack. Whatever happens today, Radha thought, is definitely going to be interesting.

Radha entered the café, the familiar scent of coffee and bagels mixed in with the 90’s European dancepop filling the air. This is why she loved this place, the vibe here was like no other.

Radha got herself her usual hot chocolate and calmly headed upstairs, where she spotted her young contact already seated at a table for two, nibbling her thumbnail with an open laptop in front of her. Yes, Radha thought. This is definitely who I have to meet today. She does have that unmistakeable… something… that she had…

“Hi, my name is Radha. Nice to meet you.”

“Hey, I’m Erin. Likewise.”

The two women shook hands, then Radha took a seat. Erin closed her laptop.

“So… ” said Radha. “What do you do, Erin?”

“Oh, I uh, I’m interning at a social media company. I’ve been here for almost a year now and I’ve completely fallen in love with the weather. I’m not freezing to death like I would’ve back home in New York. What do you do?”

Radha smiled. This is definitely her.

“Well, I’m an… investor, let’s say. I lucked out on some business opportunities in my early-20s, and as a result I never really need to work again.”

“Damn!” said Erin. “Lucky. Wait, how old are you now?”

“29,” said Radha, failing to suppress a smile as Erin’s eyes widened with shock.

“That’s so cool though, you can do whatever you want!”

Radha shrugged her shoulders. Her endless amounts of money and free time had resulted in more pain than pleasure, in her experience.

“Now then,” said Radha, sitting up straight. “Let’s get to business.”

Erin nodded, then took a deep breath.

“Look, I’m from New York, like I said. Just like my parents. And my grandparents. And their parents before them. But their parents immigrated from Ireland during the famine. My entire family is Irish, and that’s what I thought for my whole life. So you can imagine my shock when I saw that ‘2% South Indian’ on my ancestry results.”

“Definitely suspicious,” said Radha, trying hard to sound intrigued. Erin furled her eyebrows, then shook her head.

“But then again, maybe I shouldn’t have been too surprised. Our hair is darker than the usual Irish dark hair. Black-brown eyes runs in the family. And our skin gets tanned in the sun, which most Irish people can’t. I remember even our neighbors commenting on how weird that was.”

Radha nodded her head. Hearing it all like this, it definitely sounded strange.

“But anyway,” said Erin, reaching into her bag. “I brought something today that I think might help solve my ancestry mystery.”

Radha’s heart skipped a beat when she saw what Erin pulled out of her bag. So it lasted all these years…

“Do you know what this is?” asked Erin, placing the small object on the table. Radha hesitated, then spoke quietly.

“This is… a Celtic pin. Made of bronze.”

“Correct,” said Erin. “Complete with a ring, though the pin itself has gotten dull after centuries of use.”

Radha blinked in disbelief.

“Um… M-may I?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Radha slowly picked it up, then carefully examined it. It had a bit of patina on it, but somehow was still extremely well preserved.

“This has been passed down in my family for generations,” said Erin. “None of us really know how old it actually is, though my grandma says it’s over a thousand. I don’t believe her.”

Radha nodded absent-mindedly. She knew that Erin’s grandmother was actually right.

“I’m guessing this was owned by peasants,” said Erin. “I feel like it would’ve had more designs or something if it was owned by nobility. Although there are some engravings on the ring, but neither me nor my family have any clue what it is.”

“Ah, well–” started Radha, her heart beating fast. Erin looked at her.

“What?”

Radha stared at the engraving, and took a deep breath.

“This is Kannada language. From South India.”

“Oh,” said Erin, nodding slowly. “Interesting.”

Radha found herself unable to speak. Erin stared at her with anticipation.

“I wonder how that happened.”

Radha hesitated again, but knew what she had to do. It was time.

“I… I’m the one who did the engraving.”

Erin frowned.

“What…?”

“Y-yeah. I did it.”

“No way.”

“Okay,” said Radha, sighing as she set the pin back onto the table. “You came here today because you found out your ancestry somehow had 2% South Indian, which led you to me. You also happen to have this ancient pin in your family, which, while mostly plain, somehow has an engraving written in a South Indian language. Now tell me, Ms. Erin Halloran–”

“Hey, I never told you my last name!”

“Exactly. You didn’t, and yet I still know it. Don’t you think this is all just a bit too convenient to be mere coincidence?”

Erin stared at Radha, then slowly shook her head.

“Wait, no, y-you couldn’t have– no—”

“But I did, Erin,” said Radha. “I did the engraving on this pin. There was a… a time… when this exact pin was in my hands.”

“But… but how though?”

“That’s a long story,” said Radha. “How much time do you have?”

“I mean, it is Sunday,” said Erin. “I don’t really have anything else going on today.”

Radha looked at the pin, then back at Erin, and smiled.

“Okay.”