Friday, 18th January, 2104.
"Sorry Cora," Laurie sighs, "I can't do much with you today."
Damn, I wanted a round of Portal Co-Op with her.
"Why not? Did Ed and Ell send in another coding or hacking challenge?"
"Well, there's that, but there's school too."
"What about it?" I frown, "I thought you don't start up till next month?"
"Yeah, but I've… Well… Gotta clean up some records."
"Oh… Laur, you're kidding," I shake my head.
"Nope. They all still think I'm the mastermind behind the Red Radio prank from last year. I'm lucky I had that one piece of evidence that put a wrench in the works. I'm going to clear my name and set the records straight today, before I head back and everyone's spying on me."
"…How?"
"Remember the hard drives and all the holos Ed got me for Christmas?"
"Well, the holos are obvious. I kinda miss your old hardware though."
"I'll use it, I'll use it, I'm sure! Look, but Ed said he, like, took them from the real culprits. He also mentioned they got grounded by their parents after. Didn't say who they were but guess I'll find out as I go."
Considering the call I had with our cousin Toby about the potential suspects on the very same Christmas, I think I have a good idea who they are.
"Well, here's hoping. Though, you did get in detention for writing and doodling on the bathroom walls." I point out.
"Hey, those were positive messages and encouraging doodles - they're still there!"
Laurie, you actual chaotic wholesome cinnamon roll…
"You sure you don't want your buddies in Anonymous to help out?"
"I'm not Anonymous, Cora! They've been disbanded since forever!"
"Wasn't there a successor to them though? Legion, or Legend of Legion, right? Ed mentioned links between those guys and whoever had the holos before you."
"They're just a legend, Cora."
"It's literally in the name."
"But they can't be real!"
"Well, best of luck clearing your name. I'm gonna see what Emily's up to."
Laur raises an eyebrow, "You're gonna try to convince her about the feedback video again?"
"Maybe not today, but she told me she's got her hands on some stuff, though. Wonder what she's found."
A dark alleyway, a seemingly empty street on a near-black night, an attic in a hundred-year old house… Anywhere I go with Emily, I feel safe. I'm not sure what it is about her which gives off that feeling. The acrobatic jiu-jitsu training? The unending kindness she shows to all? Or the faith she's so invested in?
Whatever it is, it's so easy to take in the atmosphere she brings once I'm up the steps of the attic. By the looks of things, she's already made a few changes.
There's less clutter to the antiques and where they're placed, with even some new things. There's a writing desk near one of the windows. On it, a short stack of neatly-placed lilac notebooks and a pen holder next to them. Next to that, a pull-up bar and temporary barre which I think ballet dancers use. I also spot a Persian rug on the floor, and a hatstand close to a fancily carved wardrobe. The hatstand has her parka from a few days ago and a white beret on it, and I'm guessing her luggage is in the old wardrobe. (By the way, how did she get all that up here without help or any of us noticing?)
The ancestral wall of memorabilia is (mostly) undisturbed, but the more I look at it, something feels…
"Oh! Hey Corrie!"
"Hey Emmy. You look puffed."
"Just finished doing some gymnastics exercises - you know, the usual stretches and mini-routines. What brings you up here?"
"Laurie's busy clearing up school records so nobody goes all Big Brother on her for when she gets back."
"Oh dear," Em shakes her head, "Which records?"
"The framing of her from-"
"The Red Radio prank? Goodness, they really didn't let go of it?"
"Apparently not," I sigh, sitting on the edge of her bed, "I think we know it's the Lawson twins at this point, but since Laur and I are quarter-Lawson, she's the one with more IT skills and all the other evidence was really damning…"
"The blame falls to her still," Em finishes, "I pray she gets a break this semester, maybe she won't have summer homework either."
"Summer homework? Em, what they give kids these days is-"
"Ridiculous! Goodness, it's the homework of final-year university-"
"University students, not high-school kids! Seventeen-thousandth digit of pi my a-"
"Blooming backside!"
Em and I share a silent glance before we giggle.
"So apart from Laurie clearing her name, is that all?"
"Pretty much. How are your parents going?"
"Oh, they're okay, Cor. Met up with them last Sunday at church. They were glad I could make it there on time. Wouldn't stop talking my ears off after the service, though. Really want to know a lot about life here."
"I don't blame them, Em. You're the only kid they've had. Of course it's going to be hard for them to let go. Even my parents didn't want to let me or Laur go at first when Jaxx and the twins renovated the place."
"You were their last in-house employees that could do deliveries since Jaxx and the twins wormed their way out."
"Hey, I still do deliveries! Just less often now - once every fortnight."
"Cora, you know I'm the only child that got born out of mum and dad's multiple attempts. You've got siblings. It's not that I'm envious of you for it or not happy living here. I'm glad I'm here! I just… I don't want to already lose the independence I just got. I don't want to stuff it up."
Maybe… Is she trying to trick herself into not believing stuff is happening?
"Emmy?"
"Yeah?"
"You won't stuff up," I smile and shake my head, "You'll be okay. Laurie and I have got your back if things go sideways. As the owner of Twenty-Seven Dirdum Lane, I now get the privilege of a final say in stuff like this!"
"And what's that final say?"
"That you get the actual final say if you want to stay or leave-"
"Corrie!"
"Rent is non-existent for any of us and you're not only my best friend, but also my best housemate!"
"What about Laurie?"
"You're the best housemate who isn't my sister. You're not gonna leave against your own independent will because it is your final say! Not your parents' say, yours."
I pull her into a side hug, both of us giggling again before I let go.
"Well, good to know my legal rights, Miss Gold! Oh, by the way?"
"Yeah?"
"I tried to keep the secret basement after the smonster a secret, but I wasn't stoic enough to hide it from chatting with mum and dad at church."
"Hey, that's alright!" I grin, "Share what you want! Not everything has to be a secret from them! How'd they react?"
"Well, at least mum was excited about it. She mentioned a bunch of funny old movies that had ancestral houses with secret passageways and rooms in them. She told me to tell you she was happy for you about it."
"Tell her I said thanks back. But… I'm guessing your dad…"
"He… Wasn't so excited. Went off on a stupid spiel about how 'my daughter shouldn't be in a place like that', but mum calmed him down enough to stop him going past a minute."
"Stuff him," I blow a raspberry, "That's his bloody problem-"
"Language!"
"Sorry. As I was saying, it's his problem and not yours. We'll be twenty in July, you're my housemate with an independent statement and I get the owner's final say for you to have the ultimate final say."
"Goodness, the way you say it sounds like a paradox when it isn't."
"Besides, who the hell-"
"Cora!"
"Sorry, I meant to say who the heck is your dad to say what you're allowed to investigate into, regarding my house and its neat little mysteries? We don't have all the answers and haven't been through every nook and cranny, neither does he! Both your parents don't have the answers! But we're a homeowner, a hacker and my best friend with a knack for… I dunno, somehow knowing things through your faith. We'll get through it. You'll be fiiiiiiine."
Well, I hope she gets the hint about the basement movement, even if I can't tell if she has.
"…Thanks, Corrie. I really needed it."
"Hey. No problem. By the way, speaking of ancestral places and things…"
"Yeah?"
"I was actually wondering where you found all the antique stuff that you've got in your room now."
"Oh! Like the Persian rug and writing desk?"
"Yeah. That stuff."
"Well, I actually found the writing desk as one of those old flat-packs. Can't believe it managed to survive for so long."
"Hang on, don't tell me. Is the brand-"
"Swedish. Yep, it is. Definitely what you're thinking of."
I stare at her desk, dumbfounded.
"How the bloody hell did those things last for so long in the packaging?"
Thump.
"Ow, Emmy!"
"My apologies, but your language, Corrie! You're really going at it!"
"My bad. It's probably the third black bruise in this month," I shrug nonchalantly. I know Em doesn't mean to harm me, but she does get a little vigorous in her light-meaning elbow jabs, "Besides, Jaxx is the worst foulmouth of us."
"Don't remind me." She shudders. "But like I said, it's a surprise that all I've found has lasted in mint condition for so long."
My eyes shift from the desk and I swear, either my eyesight or glasses are really good, since things look a little too clean and perfect. Sure, I know Emily must've wiped them down, but…
"…Where did you get those things, by the way?"
"I found them in one of the spare bedrooms, same with the rug," Em shrugs, "Well, I think it used to be a bedroom. You can't really see the beds there. It's more like a strange antiques room, actually."
"I don't think anybody in my family would be sentimentalists from early in the family line," I scoff, before mentally slapping myself, "Well… The Hartgraces would be actually, bunch of ginger kleptomaniacs."
"Cora, don't talk about your grandmother like that!" Em exclaims before rolling her eyes, leading us down the stairs of the attic, "But knowing her, I guess you're right to a degree."
"I wonder how much of her stuff comes from her grandfather," I remark, smiling as Emily stops me at the door of one of the spare bedrooms.
"Oh, I'm sure he left behind a fair amount for her. But I don't know if it's compared to what he might've left for us," Em grins as she pushes the handle and lets the door swing wide open.
My jaw hits the floor.
The two sets of bunk beds in here are barely visible amongst the weird mini-museum of a tiny room. Books, nicknacks, toys, pottery, almost everything that's 'antique' in this day and age has made a home here. Sorry gran, but you've got absolutely nothing on your granddad.
Two particularly common groups of antiques are mirrors and bottles, the majority of the latter group being in the same strange shape like the one in my bedroom.
Some of these bottles have red-and-white labels on them with too-swirly calligraphy on them for me to read, and other have a sort of brown liquid inside. Those ones I don't even lift a finger for. Who knows what ghastly stuff is in there.
"Apparently the room was filled with a lot of junk before it turned out like this," Em mentions, holding a slip of paper, "According to Jaxx's note, it was, I quote: a real Hart-grade mess."
I groan and roll my eyes before picking up one of the empty glass bottles. "The next time I see him, I think I'm going to punch him. Hey… Em?"
"Mm?"
"D'you think we could sell some of this stuff to the antique shop in the city? I mean, it looks valuable."
"If we organise what's sentimental and what's not, I suppose we could; as long as it doesn't turn out to be junk. It might help us get extra groceries and such when the pantry runs out. D'you think people early last century used up all their things in the pantry before they bought more things?"
I shake my head.
"I don't think so, no…"
"Must've been a waste of space and food, then."
"It never hurts to stock up, Em. Never know when a situation might come up and we can't get in contact with the rest of the world."
"Like a swarm of ghosts will rise up from the dead and raid our kitchen since they haven't eaten in so long?"
"Emily," I snicker, "you never cease to amuse me."
She smiles, but goes back to serious.
"We should sell some of this stuff. It'll make life and our weekly budgets easier."
"I guess a bunch of the mirrors can go…" I start to think, "Those strange bottles could work too."
"Not all of them, but certainly a bunch of the unlabelled and empty bottles," she agrees, "Also, there's this large mirror in here that would be perfect to sell off."
"Well what are we waiting for? Let's get rid of it!"
A few hours later, Em and I arrive home with a successful fortune from our antique dealings.
Well, I'd personally call it ninety-five percent successful.
The chosen mirrors (particularly the massive one with the gold-plated frame) sold fantastically compared to everything else (which sold well) and made enough of a small fortune. Enough to pay off our parents' bills for both sides (because hey, we can) and leave a reasonable amount for us to budget off.
The only things we came home with were the bottles.
Even asking other antique shoppers and stores failed, too. Not one person would take a single bottle, not even for free, and nobody would say why.
"Goodness me, did you notice the way they reacted when we tried to offer the bottles?"
"Yeah, it's like they were some dumb bad luck charms or something!" I huff, "Those things really can't be much of a big deal."
"Well… on the bright side, they could be of other uses. Like water bottles."
I think it over, resting a hand on my chin. She has a point, but…
"Apart from that, what are we gonna do with this many bottles anyway?"
"A vinegar bottle, an oil bottle, maybe salt, pepper and sugar shakers if we're clever enough!"
I stare at our collection again, trying to imagine it.
"We're going to have a lot of salt, sugar and pepper if we're gonna go with that idea. And maybe figure out how to make grinders for them and get them in there… But let's do it! And those other ideas too, we're definitely going to need more uses than just those."
As Em and I do our best making plans, coming up with ideas and grabbing spare materials to convert the bunch of glass bottles into many things away from their original purpose, the strange unease I had back in the attic returns.
I can't help looking behind me, always half-expecting to see someone or something other than me, Emily or even Laurie. While passing some of the general mirrors in the house for materials…
I swear.
I swear to God…
I swear I see someone else.
They're never in front or behind me, never away where those regular mirrors are, but always in the reflections. Sure, if I stare at the mirror or the window for too long, everything's normal. But if I glance at it for only a moment…
"Cora?"
"Gah!"
"What are you doing?"
"Oh, hey Laurie… You've finally cleared your record, have you?"
"I'm letting the last bits send through," my sister shrugs, "I came out to grab a bite and stretch. What were you and Em up to?"
"Clearing out some stuff from one of the guest rooms."
"Was it the one with all the weird junk and mirrors?"
"You've been there already?"
"Duh, last I let stuff load and render, it looked a lot more easier and cleaner than usual. By the way, you did see the Mirror Man, right?"
"The Man in the Mirror, you mean," Em looks at us, hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised. Her smile is genuinely friendly though, as Laurie and I simultaneously roll our eyes.
"Really, Emmy?"
"Well you have that kind of banter on me a lot, so I figured I'd have a crack at it."
"Do you believe in the Man in the Mirror, Emily?"
"Laurie-"
Em's cut off by our stomachs collectively growling.
"Oh, dear. Do any of you have the time?"
"Holy cracking crystals in crumbling crevasses! Lunch was two hours ago!"
"…Where the bloody hell did that come from, Laurie?"
"We've got no time to waste on language, Cora. It's lunchtime!"
I'm about to run off with them, but my eyes catch up on a mirror I'd seen get left behind in the museum-bedroom when Em and I ran off to the antique shop. I suppose Laurie did some redecorating when we were gone.
It's a small, circular mirror with a decorative frame, but it's sizable enough for two people to fit their faces in when passing by.
My eyes narrow as I point between the mirror and myself with two fingers.
"We're not blind, you buttcheek," I hiss and scowl, "This isn't over yet."
