Caw! Caw!

Jordan spun around. The ominous call didn't come from the podcast he was finishing up editing on but rather from outside.

Having seemingly also heard the caws, Kiki jumped up on the window sill, rapidly moving her head back and forth, trying to spot the offending bird. Jordan scooted over to join her, the wheels of his desk chair rattling against the uneven wooden boards underneath. To make sure their eldest son's late-night recordings didn't disturb the rest of the family, his parents had designated the partly unfurnished attic room as a podcasting studio/bedroom during Jordan's brief stint in his hometown of Mistwood.

"Do you see anything?" he asked the cat while stroking her slick fur. The night was as pitch black as Kiki, but perhaps her keen yellow cat eyes could discover something Jordan couldn't. Looking at his wristwatch, Jordan noted to his surprise that it was already 3.15 in the morning. He'd completely forgotten about time while he was perfecting the podcast trailer.

Despite putting in hours of work, he still felt like something was missing. He just couldn't quite pinpoint what was needed for him to feel like the trailer was complete.

Kiki darted her head, eagerly focused on something outside the fence, where woods began. Lush firs rose higher than the house and soft moss formed a soft bed below. Jordan squinted to try to make out what the cat was looking at. Was there perhaps a movement? A dark shadow lurking underneath the branches?

For months after Araminta's disappearance, Jordan had imagined seeing her out there. A hint of a laced skirt or a flick of black braids whooshed by in the periphery of his vision. But when he turned his head, she was never there. Araminta was a ghost, never straying into the light but always existing in the shadows of his consciousness. She was a ghost who kept haunting Jordan with the question of if there was something he could have done to prevent her disappearance. Maybe he could have asked her if she wanted a ride that morning? Maybe he could have reached out to ask how she was doing on any day before that? Maybe he could have been less scared of her?

The podcast was an attempt to chase away Araminta's ghost. Either the ghost came out to play or it left Jordan alone for good. Because he couldn't continue having her watch him from the shadows. When Professor Carrigan had tasked the journalism students in his class with conducting an investigation on their own and presenting it in audio or visual form, Jordan hadn't even had to contemplate what case he would delve into. Because Araminta was always on his mind and had been so for the last two years.

Araminta wasn't out there. Jordan repeated this mantra as he turned away from the window after giving Kiki another affectionate head rub. But the words wouldn't quite penetrate his brain, because just like a certain cat in a box, Araminta was neither alive nor dead. She was both. Which meant she could be out there.

She was Schrödinger's witch and Jordan was tasked with finding the box that would reveal her fate. The mission had been placed upon his skinny shoulders when spotting her that morning before she vanished into the shadows.

Once more, Jordan turned his attention to the podcast trailer. He pressed play to listen one more time, trying to figure out what was missing. The sound of his own voice still made him cringe every time. He sounded like he was imitating how he imagined a professional podcaster sounded. His cadence was stilted and the enunciation forced. But it was the best he could do for now. No one started at the top. Even Ira Glass had been a beginner once.

The sense of something missing from the trailer still lingered after what felt like Jordan's millionth listen-through. His sleep-deprived brain was almost out of ideas, but he had to keep going. What if he re-recorded the last line—the prompt to subscribe to new episodes—and then added something more after it? Something that tied the whole trailer together.

Realistically, Jordan didn't believe anyone would subscribe to his podcast. The only reason he'd opted to put his creation on a public platform was because it was the easiest way to share his creation with his professor and classmates. But he knew it was unlikely to find a wider audience. Still, having that call to action gave it an air of legitimacy. It made Jordan feel like he was a real journalist and not just a sophomore journalism student.

Moving the borrowed microphone closer, Jordan cleared his throat, preparing to repeat that last line with some more flair. He pressed "Record".

Caw! Caw! Caaaw!

Before Jordan could speak a single syllable, the crow had returned. The window sill rattled when sharp claws landed on the metal surface.

Mrrroooowww!

From her position on the other side of the glass, Kiki had, of course, noticed the flying intruder. Jordan pressed the button to stop the recording. With all this noise, there was no way to get an undisrupted string of words out. He pushed off against the floor with his feet, rolling the desk chair over toward the window again.

In the darkness, a bewinged silhouette lurked. The crow was unafraid of both him and Kiki, peering at them curiously while tilting its head from side to side. Kiki on the other hand was not as calm. The cat ran back and forth on the window sill, seemingly trying to find a way outside to snatch the bird. All the while, she yowled loudly.

"Calm down, girl," Jordan urged the cat, trying to pet her as she rushed by. "You're going to wake the whole house up."

Kiki didn't listen. Still yowling, she darted out of the room and down the stairs. Perhaps cat logic told her there must be a way for her to get to the tasty bird in that direction. It was only a matter of time before she awoke Jordan's parents, who would then wonder why he was still up at this hour. Staying up past midnight was a great affront to human decency in their books. If only they knew what hours Jordan kept when in his college dorm room.

Quenching a yawn, Jordan looked toward the crow again. It was still there, unfazed by Kiki's outburst. Its dark eyes seemed to stare into his soul, possessing mysteries unattainable to human minds.

Caw! Caw!

The sound awoke an idea in Jordan's sleepy brain. Quickly, before the inspiration disappeared, he rolled back to the computer and pressed play on the sound he'd recorded previously when the crow interrupted him.

Caw! Caw!

That's it. That's what was missing. The perfect ominous sound to cap off the segment. After some adjustments of settings, Jordan isolated the caw from the crow and added it to the end of the trailer. Somehow, the call brought all the elements together, ending the trailer on a mysterious note.

"Jordan, are you still awake?" The call from his mom downstairs came just as Jordan uploaded the trailer. A tingly sense of satisfaction spread down his neck from knowing it was out there in the world now. Even though no one would listen.

"Yeah... I'm just going to bed," Jordan assured his mom. Looking at the clock on the computer, he calculated that he could still get a few hours of sleep before he needed to be up bright and early to start his research for the next episode the following morning.

Crawling between the covers, Jordan realized to his surprise that he was quite exhausted. Perhaps there was something to his parents' idea of going to bed at a decent hour. While dozing off into crow-filled dreams, he felt the comforting sensation of a cat rolling herself up by the foot of the bed. Kiki had returned from her bird hunt.

Caw! Caw!