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The next morning, I woke up to a strange, almost eerie discovery:

The house was completely box free.

No clutter in the hallway.
No cardboard pyramids in the kitchen.
No towers of "Random Stuff" waiting to fall over in the living room.

Just clean floors. Neatly placed furniture. Shelves that somehow had actual things on them now.

I sat up in bed, blinking like maybe I was dreaming.

"How did that happen?"

I pulled on my hoodie and padded downstairs, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

No sign of Dad.

But I did find Uncle David, passed out on the couch, snoring lightly with one arm draped over his face and a half-empty bag of pretzels resting on his chest like a raccoon had tucked him in.

So... not him.

I stepped into the kitchen. Clean counters. Toaster plugged in. Coffee machine already gurgling like it was mid-monologue.

I checked the dining room.

Tidy.

Even the weird little reading nook by the stairs was cleaned up—throw blanket folded, books neatly stacked, not a thing out of place.

What kind of house elf magic was this?

I must've overlooked Mom, because when I came back to the kitchen, there she was—standing at the stove, flipping pancakes like she'd been up for hours.

"Morning," she said, like it was the most normal day in the world.

I blinked. "How... is everything gone?"

She glanced over her shoulder. "You mean the boxes?"

"No," I said flatly. "The phantom furniture fairies. Yes, the boxes."

She smiled to herself and went back to flipping the pancake. "Your dad's been up since before sunrise. He started with the living room, then pulled David into it with him. I think he bribed him with coffee and leftover pizza."

I blinked. "So... you're telling me they actually finished unpacking everything?"

"Mostly. There are a few things still in the garage," she said, flipping a pancake. "But all the main rooms are done."

I raised an eyebrow. "Even my room?"

"Your dad didn't touch your room," she said. "He knows better."

Fair enough.

I sat down at the table, still processing. The last time I saw this kitchen, it looked like a box factory exploded in it. Now the counters were clean, the silverware drawer made sense, and somehow she'd found the griddle.

She slid a plate in front of me. "Eat while it's hot. You've got guests coming today."

Right. Jasmine and Mia.

They'd be here soon.

And I couldn't wait to see the look on their faces.

I took my plate and went to the new dining room to eat.

It felt weird sitting there alone. The room was huge—way bigger than our other one. I sat in the seat closest to the kitchen, quietly eating my pancake, letting the syrup soak in while the house creaked in that "still settling" kind of way.

But the peace didn't last long.

Thump-thump-thump—

I looked up just in time to hear the thunder of feet on the stairs, followed by a familiar shriek of laughter.

Lily came charging into the dining room, barefoot and wild-haired, dragging her unicorn plushie behind her like a battle flag.

"I smell pancakes!" she yelled triumphantly, sliding into the chair next to me.

Not even five seconds later, Sam burst in behind her, panting and clearly mid-chase.

"She took the last clean sock! It was mine!"

"I found it first!" Lily argued, grabbing her fork like a sword.

"You found it on my side of the laundry basket!"

"Possession is nine-tenths of the law!" she sang, stabbing her pancake with glee.

Sam slumped into the chair across from us, dramatically defeated.

"Why is she like this?"

I shrugged, chewing another bite. "Maybe you were cursed. Did you steal something from a witch when you were born?"

"Would explain a lot," he muttered, reaching for the syrup.

Just like that, the table wasn't quiet anymore.

And honestly?

I didn't mind at all.

Mia and Jasmine were late.

Not "a few minutes late because someone forgot their shoes" late.
But late-late.

I sat on the front porch, legs pulled up onto the step, phone clutched in my hand like it was going to buzz any second and fix everything.

But it didn't.

I'd already sent two texts.

Me:

You guys close?

Me:

Everything okay?

No reply.

No little "typing..." bubbles.
No read receipts.
Just... nothing.

I stared down the quiet street, hoping to spot a familiar car, a backpack in the window, even just a flicker of movement that would let me breathe again.

But all I saw were trees swaying, a neighbor walking their dog, and sunlight creeping along the sidewalk like the day was going on without me.

I bounced my leg anxiously.

Maybe they were just running late.
Maybe Jasmine's mom needed gas.
Maybe Mia left her phone in the car.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.

I tucked my phone under my leg and looked out at the neighborhood.

The new house was beautiful.
The weather was perfect.
Everything should've felt right.

But it didn't.

Not without them.

Finally, a car pulled into the driveway.

I stood up so fast I nearly tripped on the step.

It was Mia and her mom.

Mia practically fell out of the passenger side door with her backpack half-zipped and a lopsided ponytail.

"Sorry I'm late!" she said, rushing up the walkway. "The security guard at the gate was, like... halfway between mall cop and FBI agent. He made my mom read out her license plate twice, then squinted at me like I was smuggling contraband juice boxes."

Her mom waved apologetically from the car with an exhausted smile before pulling out.

Mia jogged the last few steps and threw her arms around me in a quick, slightly sweaty hug.

"Also, my phone died on the way here," she added. "Which is a crime, I know. I'm pretty sure the universe did it on purpose."

I laughed—half from relief, half from Mia just being Mia.

"It's fine," I said. "I was about to send a search party."

"Let's be real, you were about to text Jasmine in all caps."

"...That was going to be Plan B."

Mia grinned. "Where is she, anyway?"

I glanced down the road. "Not sure. You were supposed to come together."

Mia blinked. "Nope. I thought you said to come separately."

"...I did not."

We both turned toward the road at the same time, squinting like we could summon her with our minds.

Still no sign of Jasmine.

Mia leaned in and whispered, "She's totally going to get tackled by the gate guy."

A few minutes later, we heard the soft whirrrr of tires on pavement.

Jasmine rolled up on her bike, out of breath, hair slightly windblown, and her helmet strapped crooked like it had been a battle.

"Sorry I'm late!" she called, coasting up the driveway and nearly knocking over one of Mom's potted plants. "The security guard at the gate was this close to calling in backup. I told him I was going to a friend's house and he asked for two forms of ID."

Mia snorted. "What did you give him?"

"My student ID and a half-melted granola bar."

"You gave him food?" I blinked.

"It was the only thing in my pocket! I panicked!"

Mia and I burst out laughing.

Jasmine leaned her bike against the porch and joined us on the steps, still catching her breath.

"What about your phone?" I asked. "I texted you like three times."

"Oh." She pulled it from her hoodie pocket and looked at it. "Sorry, the volume was turned down low."

"You had one job," Mia said, shaking her head.

"Excuse me," Jasmine said, pointing at herself, "I made it here. Alive. That's the real miracle."

I laughed again, the tension from earlier finally breaking apart like clouds in the sun.

They were both here.

And now?

We had the whole day ahead of us.

Then they both turned and really looked at the house.

And froze.

Mia blinked first. "Wait... this is your house?"

Jasmine tilted her head like the building was playing tricks on her. "I thought this was, like, the neighborhood clubhouse or something."

"That's the actual house?" Mia said, pointing at it like it might bite her.

I shrugged, playing it cool even though I was so ready for this moment.
"Yep. Welcome to Evergreen."

They just stared.

"This place has columns," Jasmine whispered. "It's got columns, Emily."

"And like... multiple chimneys," Mia added. "Why does your house have bonus chimneys? Are there secret fireplaces in the closets?"

"You'll see," I said, already grinning.

They slowly followed me to the door, still looking around like someone was about to yell cut and reveal it was a movie set.

"And that's just the outside," Jasmine muttered.

Mia nodded, eyes wide. "If there's a chocolate fountain inside, I'm moving in."

I laughed as I opened the door.

"Get ready. This is gonna blow your minds."

I held the door open and stepped aside.

"Go ahead," I said. "See for yourselves."

Mia and Jasmine walked in slowly, like they were entering a museum and expected to get tackled by laser sensors.

The second they crossed the threshold, their heads tilted in opposite directions.

Mia pointed toward the staircase. "Is that a chandelier?"

Jasmine took one step forward, then spun around. "Wait—was that another hallway? How many rooms are in this place?!"

I just shrugged. "Keep going."

They did.

Mia wandered off to the left and disappeared down one hall.

Jasmine took the stairs two at a time and yelled back down, "WHY IS THERE A WHOLE OTHER FLOOR UP HERE?!"

From somewhere down the hall, I heard Mia shout, "I just found a room with two closets! Are these options?!"

I stood in the entryway, arms crossed, smiling to myself.

They were exactly how I hoped they'd be—surprised, loud, and probably a little jealous.

Footsteps thundered overhead. A door opened. Then slammed. Laughter echoed down the stairs.

"I FOUND THE LAUNDRY CHUTE!" Jasmine yelled.

A pause.

Mia's voice, slightly panicked: "DON'T PUT ANYTHING DOWN IT YET!"

I rolled my eyes and leaned against the wall.

Let them explore.

Let them figure it out.

This was my house now.

And today?

It was finally fun to share it.

A few minutes later, Jasmine came stomping back down the stairs, looking completely overwhelmed but absolutely determined.

She stood in the middle of the entryway, hands on her hips, and announced:

"Okay, but where's my room?"

I blinked. "Your what now?"

"My room," she repeated, like this was common sense. "I've decided I'm moving in. I'll be the cool mysterious cousin who shows up late to dinner and steals all the cookies."

Mia popped her head out from the hallway. "You already do that and we don't even live together."

Jasmine ignored her. "Emily, I'm serious. I'll take the third floor. Or the second biggest room. Whatever's available. I don't need much. Just a window and, like, a floor-length mirror and some string lights."

"I don't even have a floor-length mirror," I said.

"Exactly," she said, pointing. "This house needs me."

Mia walked back into the foyer, arms crossed and grinning. "If anyone's moving in, it's me. I saw the reading nook and instantly felt spiritually attached."

I rolled my eyes. "You two are impossible."

Jasmine looked around the room dramatically again. "You're just lucky we're not dragging our sleeping bags in here right now."

"You're assuming I'd stop you," I said with a smirk.

Mia raised an eyebrow. "Wait... would you let us?"

I gave a shrug. "I mean... I wouldn't not let you."

And just like that, I saw it—that look.

The one where Jasmine and Mia silently agree on something chaotic.

And I knew right then and there...

This house wasn't going to stay quiet for long.

"Where's your room?" Mia asked, turning to me with wide eyes. "You didn't even show us yet!"

I grinned. "You haven't found it yet?"

Jasmine squinted. "Wait... is it the one with the big closet downstairs?"

"Nope."

"The one next to the reading nook?"

"Nope."

"Don't tell me it's the—" Mia stopped mid-sentence. "Hold up. Is it on the third floor?"

I just smiled.

Mia's mouth fell open. "You have your own floor?!"

"It's just one room!" I said quickly, holding up my hands. "I didn't know it existed until we moved in."

Jasmine looked offended. "You've been sitting on a tower bedroom this whole time and you let us wander around like peasants?!"

"I wanted it to be a surprise!"

"Oh it's a surprise," Mia muttered. "This is Cinderella-level betrayal."

"I'm not apologizing," I said, already heading toward the stairs. "Come on, Rapunzel. I'll show you the view from the top."

They scrambled after me, still half-joking, half-plotting a sleepover takeover.

And honestly?

I wouldn't have it any other way.

We climbed the stairs—all of them—past the first floor, past the second, up the narrow stairwell that twisted just enough to feel like a secret passage.

By the time we hit the third floor landing, Mia was panting.
"Okay, this better be worth the cardio."

Jasmine stepped through the doorway first—then stopped.

"Whoa."

Mia peeked around her and her jaw dropped. "Okay... okay, yeah. Worth it."

They both walked in slowly, turning in place to take it all in.

The sloped ceiling.
The big windows.
The walk-in closet that Lily still hadn't discovered.
My mattress on the floor.
And the flag, hanging proudly above it.

Jasmine ran a hand along the windowsill. "This is like... dream room material."

"I feel like I just entered a bonus level," Mia added. "You've got actual vibes up here."

"It's still kind of empty," I admitted. "I don't have much stuff yet."

Mia flopped down on the mattress like she'd lived there for years. "Good. That means there's space for sleeping bags and snacks."

Jasmine laid down next to her and stared at the ceiling. "You realize we're never leaving, right?"

I laughed and sat at the edge of the bed. "You say that now, but wait until the stairs hit you on the way down."

"Worth it," Mia said with a grin. "Besides... this place feels like you."

That made me pause.

And smile.

Because she was right.