“Okay, the twins are packed and waiting in the car, we’ve got gas, spare tire, refreshments…we should be set.” Sylvie shut the truck of the car, looking over at his wife. “Are you going to be alright, while I’m gone?”

“Sylvie, it’s fine!” Cansu waved him off, but she didn’t sound confident. “It’s just a few days, I can manage until then.”

“I’m not saying you can’t, dear, but—” Sylvie hesitated, his body growing tense as he avoided eye contact, afraid of touching a nerve. “Most of us are going to be gone, and while Samara is remaining home…you haven’t been this alone since—”

“I know.”

Cansu’s words came out sharp and cold, as if each syllable was made of ice. Sylvie flinched slightly, but his expression shifted to a softer, concerned one, worried for his lover. He opened his mouth to speak, only to shut it again, as if he was contemplating his choice of words. 

“I’m not saying it wasn’t hard for the rest of us, but I know losing Bronte and Hedwig hit you the hardest,” Sylvie finally said, placing a hand on Cansu’s shoulder. “I don’t mean to worry too much or be overbearing, love. It’s—” He trailed off for a moment, glancing up at Samara’s bedroom window. He could just barely make out the side of the girl’s head as she scurried back and forth around her room, setting things up for her sleepover. “I don’t want you to go through that feeling again.”

“I understand, but—” Cansu cut herself off, sighing before she continued. “I’m trying to keep it together. Hedwig would have wanted me to.”

“I don’t think she would’ve,” Sylvie mumbled under his breath, low enough for his wife not to hear.

She might not have caught her husband’s words, but she saw his mouth move. “Pardon, Sylv?”

“It’s nothing, dear. Don’t worry about it.” He kissed Cansu on the cheek. “I’ll be back soon, my dear. I love you.”

“I love you too, Sylvie. Just…be careful, okay?”

“I will. I promise.”

“Woah!” Basil nearly passed out from shock, her eyes wide as dinner plates as she glanced around the living room, taking everything in. “Sam, your house is huge!”

“Yeah, we get that a lot,” Samara chuckled. “Aunt Cansu said we could set up in the rec room, it’s just up here.” She headed up the stairs, Basil following behind. “You ready?"

“For the sleepover, or—"

“Shh!” Samara turned around sharply, slapping a hand over her friend’s mouth, listening to see if her surrogate aunt had heard. “We can’t let Aunt Cansu know, remember?”

“Oh! Right!” Basil looked embarrassed. “Sorry, I forgot.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. She’ll be a bit preoccupied anyways,” Samara replied as they walked through the hallway. “She always seems a bit distant whenever there aren’t very many people home. Like, she’s there, but she’s not quite there? Sorry, I’m probably not making sense…”

“No, no, I get it. Do you know why she’s like that…?”

“Not really. Uncle Sylvie said that Aunt Cansu had some sort of traumatic experience when she was younger. He never gave very many details, but I think maybe it had to do with my parents.”

“Oh.” Basil recalled Samara telling her about it a while ago. “...sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Like I said, I don’t remember them, so it doesn’t hurt much.” Of course it was a lie, but she didn’t want to make her friend feel bad. 

Basil relaxed, the tension leaving her shoulders as the girls entered the rec room. It wasn’t anything terribly fancy; there was a gray sectional couch in one corner of the room, with decorative pillows with faded, muted patterns sitting on the cushions. There was an old ping-pong table pushed against a wall, its blue surface scratched from years of heated table tennis matches. A small TV sat on top of an old television stand, a bunch of beanbags and stuffed animals placed in front of it—preperations that had obviously been made by Samara, no doubt.

“Woah, you guys have ping-pong?” Basil put her stuff down by the door, wandering over to the ping-pong table.

“Yeah, it’s been there since the twins and I were real little,” Samara replied. “We’d have mini-tourneys all the time. If you think that two first graders and a preschooler couldn’t get competitive, my aunt has video evidence that would prove you otherwise.”

Basil chuckled slightly, running her hand along the table’s surface. “I don’t think I’ve played physical ping-pong, but my older brother and I used to play this tennis video game…that’s probably the same thing, right?”

“Yeah, sure. Same thing,” Samara snickered. “If you like getting your ass kicked by the resident Thornbury Table Tennis champion!”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Only if you want it to be, Sinkes!” The brunette branished a pair of paddles and a ball from underneath the table, grinning cheekily at her friend. “You wanna take a chance?

“Bring it on, Thornbury!”

“So, what’d you think?” Samara asked, turning to face her friend as the movie came to a close, the mid-credits scene beginning to play.

“It’s…” Basil bit her lip, staring at the TV screen as the scene played out, a character dressed in midevial clothing going on a dramatic monologue. “I thought, um…”

“That it sucked?” Sam finished, finishing off the rest of the chips. “You can say it, it’s fine.”

“Oh God, it was awful!” Basil turned off the TV, sighing in frustration. “It feels like it was made by a bunch of high schoolers who had no idea what they were doing.”

“Yeah, it’s just really bad. The writing, editing…the actors were shit, too.” Samara checked her phone—just about midnight. “I think Aunt Cansu’s just about asleep by now…”

“So, we’re really doing this?” Basil bit the inside of her cheek.

“We have to, Basil. Don’t you remember her initial reaction to the box?” Sam’s voice became hushed, desperate. “There’s something in the box that Aunt Cansu doesn’t want us to know about. Something important, and…” She trailed off, taking a deep breath. “I have to know what’s in there. I don’t know why, I…just do.”

“What do you think is in there?” Basil wasn’t going to try to talk her friend out of it; from the moment the girls had found the box, Samara had become determined to attempt to crack its code, and later on find out what was inside. Basil didn't understand Samara's obsession, but on the other hand, Sam was Basil's first real friend, and she didn't want to lose what they had.

“I’m not sure,” Samara admitted. “I’ve never seen that box before in my life, I swear, but I—I’m not saying I recognize it, but it also feels familiar, y’know?”

“You mean like déjà vu?”

“Not…really? I mean, I’d think I’d know if I’d seen it before—not in a ‘I remember everything from my childhood way’, but…” Sam trailed off, looking away. “I don’t know how to describe it. It’s…a gut feeling, I guess.”

“Well, you should trust it. That’s what Dad says.”

“Huh.” Sam looked up at Basil. “Trust my gut, huh?”

Basil nodded. “Why shouldn’t you?”

“Yeah…yeah, you’re right!” Samara stood up, placing her hands on her hips as she stared at the rec room door confidently. “I’m gonna trust the fuck outta my gut, and we’re gonna find that box! And I know just where to start!”

Sylvie’s study was dark and slightly chilly, the only sources of light coming from the hallway light shining through the crack in the door, and from the flashlights on the girls’ phones.

“You think it might be here?” Basil whispered, cautiously stepping inside. “I mean, is anyone else allowed in your uncle’s study?”

“Yes, but Uncle Sylvie doesn’t like it when people mess with his stuff. Aunt Cansu probably hid it here so I wouldn’t find it again accidentally.” Sam followed her friend inside, shutting the door quietly. “Don’t turn on the light. We don’t wanna call any attention to ourselves in case she wakes up.”

Basil nodded, shining her flashlight one of the walls, where a bunch of framed pictures and degrees hung up on display. “Wow, your uncle is really successful, huh?”

“Yeah, he helps manage a company that ships metals to jewelry companies,” Samara replied, inspecting the inside of a desk drawer. “Makes a ton of money doing it, too. OJ’s always looked up to him—he wants to major in business when he goes to college next year.”

“Business, huh? So like, he’s gonna inherit your uncle’s job?”

“Actually, OJ wants to build his own company. A hotel and resort chain, I think.”

“Oooh, smart. Hotels probably make a lot,” Basil mumbled, turning to the bookshelf. There didn’t seem to be anything special on display; mainly just books on finance and business management, maybe the occasional book on parenting or some other subject. Basil almost turned away to search somewhere else, but something caught her eye.

“Sam! I think I found it!”

“What?” Samara slammed the desk drawer shut, pens and paperweights rattling slightly. “Where, lemme see!”

“Back here, on the bookcase!” Basil gestured to the bookshelf, pointing to the wood behind some books. “Your aunt must’ve hidden the box here to make it look like it was just part of the shelf!”

“Yes! My hunch was right!” Sam scurried over, bending down to pull some books off the shelf. “Come on, let’s grab it and—”

A small click echoed through the room. As the brunette looked down at the fake book in her hand, the bookcase slid to the side slightly, some books and the wooden box falling to the ground in the process. As Basil quickly scooped up the box, Samara stared in shock at the set of spiraling stairs that stood before the two girls.

“Well, now I know why my uncle didn’t like people poking around in here,” Sam said numbly, trying to break the tension with a joke, smiling awkwardly.

“I’m assuming you didn’t know this was here, either?” Basil questioned, stepping forward with the box in her hands.

“N—” The sound of quiet footsteps could be heard from outside the room, cutting Samara off. “Shit! Aunt Cansu!”

“Oh no, the noise might’ve woken her!” Basil froze, almost as if she were a deer in headlights. “W-Where do we go?”

“There’s only one place we can go!” Samara snatched the box from her friend, pointing towards the stairs. “Downstairs, hurry!” She ran down the stairs, Basil stopping for a few moments to slide the shelf-door shut behind them before following behind.

The stairs seemed to go on forever, the girls’ footsteps echoing through the small space as they ran further and further down. The steps were made out of cracked and mossy stone, so each step felt cold and wet under their bare feet. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the pair stumbled to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.

“Okay…I think we’re good,” Basil gasped, wiping sweat off her forehead. “W-Where are we?”

“I don’t know,” Samara admitted, glancing around. They were in a room with a bunch of steel doors, strange silver etchings engraved on each one. “Looks like some sort of labyrinth…?”

“Weird,” Basil mumbled, approaching one of the doors. “Hey, look, this writing on the door kind of looks like the one on the box, doesn’t it?”

“What?” Samara looked at the box, then at the door. The etchings on both objects were nearly an exact match; different words, but the same language. “Oh my God…then that means…”

“They might be connected somehow,” Basil finished. “What do you think is on the other side?”

“I’m not sure…should we go in?”

“Is that a good idea?”

“I dunno, but on the other hand…we’re already here, y’know?”

Basil nodded, as if she were saying, "Yeah, fair enough", and pushed on the door, a low creaking echoing loudly through the room as it opened. Samara was the first to step inside, looking around the room. It was small; almost claustrophobic, even. It was built entirely from some sort of sandstone, which looked like it was nearly falling apart.

“Is this it?” Basil questioned, following Samara’s lead. “Looks…minimalistic.”

“I’d use ‘claustrophobic’, personally, but from the looks of things…” Samara trailed off, running a hand against the wall, her free arm clinging to the box. “Wonder why my aunt and uncle have a door leading to an empty room.”

“Maybe—”

A loud cracking noise interrupted Basil, the two girls freezing up, looking around the cramped room. Samara glanced down, her eyes widening as she noticed the floor beginning to crumble beneath their weight.

“Sam, what’s happening?” Basil asked, her voice cracking slightly from fear.

“Nothing good,” Sam mumbled. “Basil, we need to—”

She didn’t get to finish before the floor gave way.