“DAMMIT OJ! DID YOU USE MY HAIRSPRAY AGAIN?”

“So what if I did? You literally have dozens of hair products, you’ll live if I use a little!”

Samara finished tying up their shoelaces, the twins’ argument doing little to phase her. True, the sudden yell would shock her, but she was used to OJ and Peyton fighting—it wasn’t that they never saw eye-to-eye, in fact, when they worked together, they made a good team. But with both of them being seventeen-year-old twins, it was easy to fight over “important” late-teen things, such as whose turn it was to borrow the car or one accusing the other of stealing their clothes.

“You’ll get it when you’re older, dear,” Sam remembered Sylvie telling her as the two of them watched the twins play tug-of-war with a juniper cardigan. “When you hit a certain age there are things you become self-conscious about, and that’s all you can think of. At least, that’s what it was like for me when I was sixteen…”

Sam didn’t believe it then, nor did they believe it now. It wasn’t that she didn’t give a shit about makeup or clothes, but they couldn’t see themselves becoming obsessed with it—not while there were fantasy novels to read or cartoons to watch or fanfiction to write.

Speaking of which…

They reached under the bed, pulling out a book with a salmon ribbon tied around it; the first book in the Lilith Celeste series, to be exact. Basil told her she hadn’t gotten a chance to read it, so Sam kept pestering OJ until he finally agreed to drive to the bookstore so his sister could get her friend a copy of the series’ debut novel (Samara would’ve walked there, but Cansu and Sylvie had a rule against going out alone after dark).

Samara giggled excitedly, holding the book close to her chest as she glanced outside the window. Basil and her family were moving into their new house today, and the latter was bringing her mother over to introduce her to Sam and the other Thornburys (except for Sylvie, who had to go into work early that day). Last night felt like Christmas Eve as she lay awake in bed for what felt like hours, trying their best to fall asleep with the hopes that the next morning would come soon. 

She quickly spotted Basil coming down the block, her mother a few feet behind her— a slightly taller, portly woman, wearing a cream-colored dress with tiny pastel flowers decorated on it, her hair tied up in a loose bun. She was almost the splitting image of her daughter, aside from her mint-green hair with a few gray streaks.

Samara cheered, shoving the book into her bag as she leapt off her bed, bolting right past the twins as she barrelled downstairs. She threw open the door with all she had, nearly breaking it off its hinges as she sped towards her friend.

“Basil!” Sam shouted, tackling her friend in a hug, nearly knocking the other girl down in the process. “Oh my god, you’re really here! Like, living here! Ohmygod, I’m so excited!”

“I know! It’s crazy, but I’m excited!” Basil smiled. “Mom said that after I get my room set up we can have a sleepover at my place! My mom makes some really good hor dourves…”

“That actually sounds great! We could probably have sleepovers all the time, too!” Basil had taken Samara to see the former’s new house the day they first met, where the girls were surprised to find that the Sinkes would be living only a few blocks away from the Thornbury home. “Maybe we could sleep over at mine first, if you want! We could binge Raven’s Dwelling together!”

“All five seasons?”

“Of course!”

“Hey, girls!” Basil’s mother approached the two of them, smiling warmly. “Catching up a bit, I see?”

“Yeah, we are!” Basil replied, wrapping an arm around Samara’s shoulder as the two turned to face Mrs. Sinkes. “Sam, this is my mom! Mom, this is Samara, I told you about her, remember?”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Sinkes, m’am,” Samara said, extending their arm out for Basil’s mother to shake. 

“Oh, no need for the formalities, sweetie. Just call me Tilda.” Tilda returned the handshake, smiling warmly at Sam. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Sam! Basil has said so much about you!”

“I-I, uh, wouldn’t go that far, Mom,” Basil said meekly, her cheeks growing pink.

“Now, no need to be embarrassed, Basil!” Tilda chuckled, patting her daughter on the back. “It’s great that you found someone you can bond with! In fact, that’s how I met your father, my college roommate and I went to a party and your dad was talking with a friend of his by the snack table, and my roommate said, ‘Hey, Tils, that guy looks—’"

“MOM!” Basil’s face was beet red at this point. “I-It’s not like that, Sam and I are just friends!”

“Yeah!” Samara nodded in agreement. “I mean, I’m a lesbian, but we haven’t known each other for that long, and—”

“Sam? Are you out here?” Cansu stepped outside, tying her hair up in a loose bun. “Sorry to interrupt you while you’re with your friend, but—”

“Cansu?” Tilda gasped, eyes widening. “Oh my goodness, is that really you?”

“Oh my god, Tilda! What a surprise!” Cansu hurried over, wrapping her arms around the other woman. “It’s so good to see you again, Tils!”

“Tils?” Basil blurted out.

“Wait, Aunt Cansu, you know Mrs. Tilda?” Samara asked, the two younger girls sharing confused looks.

“Of course! Tilda was my roommate back in college!” Cansu replied, smiling warmly. “God, how long has it been, twenty years? Are you and Lake still together?"

“Been married almost eighteen years now,” Tilda said proudly. “And Basil here is the second of my two lovely children.”

“Oh my God, congratulations! I know you’ve always wanted children—would you like to come inside? I can break out the good tea…”

“That sounds wonderful! Basil, you want to come in, too?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could take Basil to the woods?” Samara piped up. “If that’s okay with you, ma’am?”

“The woods?” Tilda repeated.

“Oh yes, there’s some woods behind our house, in the backyard,” Cansu explained. “Samara likes to go wandering around in there from time to time. I’m not saying it’s perfectly safe or anything, but the worst that’s happened to her was coming home with a few bruises or scrapes.”

“We won’t go too far!” Samara promised. “And I have my phone with me.”

“Well…” Tilda turned to Basil, a strange glaze in her eyes. “Basil—”

“I want to go,” Basil said quickly. “I trust Samara.” She avoided her friend’s confused gaze, choosing to stare at the pastel flowers on her mother’s dress.

“Basil’s safe with Sam, Tils,” Cansu reassured the other woman. “She knows the woods like the back of her hand.”

Tilda sighed, smiling softly. “Alright, then…just be careful, okay, Basil?”

Basil nodded, waving goodbye to her mother as Samara eagerly pulled her off to the backyard, the two girls venturing off into the woods.

The woods behind Samara’s house were a strange place, surely; tall, thick trees towered above the two teen girls, deep green leaves rustling in the slight summer breeze. Chunks of old, rotted wood lay among a carpet of moss, gentle crunching echoing through the air as Samara led Basil deeper into the maze of flora and foliage.

“This place is beautiful,” Basil whispered, staring at a bush covered in pretty purple flowers. “I don’t think I could ever leave."

“You think this place is cool, huh?” Samara chuckled. “Come over here! Lemme show you my hideout!”

“Hideout?” Basil followed Samara as she wandered over to a giant tree, near a small ravine. It had long since died, but there were still signs of living, as evidenced by how the ground surrounding the tree’s base looked more disturbed than the rest of the wood’s floor. Upon closer inspection, Basil noticed a sign was nailed above the tree; it was painted messily on a hunk of old wood, but she could make out the words: “‘Witch’s Hut? Mortals Beware’?”

“I found this place when I was eight or so,” Samara explained, hopping over the ravine. “Back then I was super obsessed with the idea of becoming a witch that lived in the woods and turned children into birds if they got near my house.”

“I mean, that does sound like fun,” Basil agreed, stepping over to the other side. “I mean, ‘the Witch of Hatchwood’ kinda has a ring to it.”

“Yeah, you get it!” Samara grinned, before clearing their throat, feigning a dark look on her face as they spoke in a “witchy” voice. “Now, won’t you step into my hut, dear mortal?”

Basil couldn’t help but laugh as she stepped into the “witch’s hut”, taking a look around. There were an abundance of milk crates; some were filled to the brim with books, magazines, and non-perishable snacks, while others were turned upside down to serve as makeshift chairs or tables. There were a few posters of pretty-looking witches or anime swordswomen, hanging above beanbag chairs and a few stuffed animals.

“Woah!” Basil sat down on a milk crate, looking around in awe. “You put all this together yourself?”

“Mostly. My siblings helped me get some stuff here and there,” Samara replied, stepping inside. “I put the rest of it together myself over the—waugh!” They suddenly faceplanted right in front of Basil, grunting as they hit the dirt.

“Sam!” Basil gasped. “Oh my god, are you okay?!”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Samara grumbled, pulling herself up. “I just tripped, ‘s all. Probably wasn’t watching where I was going…”

“You mean tripped on that rock there?”

“What?” Samara turned around, noticing a hunk of rock poking out from the ground. “That’s weird.”

“Well, you did say you weren’t watching where you were going,” Basil pointed out.

“No, no, this…looks like it’s part of the ground?” Samara crawled over to the rock, staring at it momentarily before brushing part of it away with her palm, revealing a long, cracked slab of stone. “What in the—Basil, come look at this!”

“Look at what?” Basil stood up, walking over to Sam’s position on the floor, glancing down at the rock slab. “What the hell? Is that just…a huge stone brick?”

“What is this doing here? I mean, I sure as hell didn’t put this here, and my siblings don’t usually go this far into the woods…” Samara mumbled to themselves for a moment before lifting up the slab slightly. “Hey, there’s something in here!”

“Wait, really?” Basil’s curiosity piqued further, the redhead bending down to get a closer look. “What is it?”

“I dunno, I can’t tell—hey, help me lift this!”

Basil and Samara each grabbed a side of the rock, the two girls grunting slightly as they lifted the slab and chucked it to the side, the stone breaking in half as it hit the ground. As the dust settled, Sam reached into the hole, gasping slightly as she slowly lifted a large, wooden box up to her face, a strange message carved into its mahogany lid.

"What...is this?"