Jordan had never thought that his annoying preteen habit of forgetting his keys would come in handy. Many were the times when he'd arrived home to an empty house after school, discovered he was keyless, and searched for a solution. Of course, he could have called his parents, but they would have gotten annoyed at him for disturbing and it would have taken them quite a while to drive home from work. And Jordan had been a conflict-adverse and impatient kid. So instead, he'd figured out a way to pick the lock on the patio door with the help of his library card and a thin rusty nail, found in his dad's tool shed.

As luck would have it, Araminta's house had the same type of patio door. Jordan's minor teen delinquency was about to pay off and pave the path toward major delinquency in the form of burglary.

After locating a conveniently loose nail from the fence that separated their yards, Jordan extracted a credit card from his wallet clip. That should do.

"Don't give me that look," he mumbled to Kiki, who glared judgmentally at him from the lawn. The cat apparently didn't want to be accused of being a co-conspirator, so made sure to keep her paws far away from the scene of the crime.

Since it was a while since Jordan used his nifty trick for opening a glass door, it took some finagling—trying to insert the card in the slit right at the exact moment when he jammed the nail into the lock and pushed to the left—but finally, he succeeded. He pulled on the handle and swung the door open to Araminta's world.

Behind him, Kiki protested the development with a disgruntled "Mrrrppph", which probably meant "I'm not going in there with you, dumbass. You're on your own now!"

The cat was correct. Jordan was alone, and he was probably a dumbass, but he couldn't stop now. He had to do whatever he could to find Araminta. So with one more gaze toward Kiki, who gave him a look of exasperation in return, Jordan stepped across the threshold and into the dark house. Before he started his explorations, Jordan weighed the pros and cons of using his recorder while rummaging through the house. It would be useful to have an oral record of what he found but that record could also be used against him in a court of law if he was charged with burglary. Which was a damn good argument against it. So Jordan decided he would just have to figure out how to include any clues he found in the podcast later, without incriminating himself. To not alert anyone of his presence in the house, which everyone knew was uninhabited, Jordan didn't press the light switch by the door. Instead, he turned on the flashlight on his phone. Since Araminta's home was built in the same mold as the house next door where Jordan grew up, he intuitively knew the layout of the place, even in limited lighting.

Although, that unfortunately didn't mean the furniture was placed in the same pattern. Jordan learned this the hard way when he stubbed his toe on a sneaky side table.

"Fuck..." Jordan muffled his cry by biting his lip, not wanting to yell out in fear of drawing attention to his presence in the house from passers-by. "Yeah, I know... karma is a bitch," he mumbled toward Kiki, who surveilled him from the doorway. Kiki trilled in reply, which Jordan took as "I told you so."

Breathing through his nose while the throbbing pain in his foot settled, Jordan looked around the living room. It appeared surprisingly ordinary. A brown leather couch. A flat-screen TV. A low table marked with water stains. Nothing other-worldly. No carved pentagrams, swirling crystal balls, simmering cauldrons or other objects stereotypically associated with witchcraft. Although to be fair, Jordan hadn't been to Araminta's room yet. So there was still hope for witchy madness.

What was striking about the living room wasn't anything of paranormal nature but rather the utter normality of it, down to mugs left on the table and papers strewn on the floor. It was as if the whole family had up and left the house at the same time Araminta disappeared, without even making an effort to tidy up or grab beloved belongings. If not for the heavy layer of dust sprinkled across all surfaces, one would be led to believe that the inhabitants were about to walk through the door at any moment.

Instinctively, Jordan looked toward the front door, half-expecting to see the knob turn. But, of course, it didn't. Jordan shook his head, trying to rid himself of paranoia. He didn't have time to fall into doubts now. What he needed to do was find what he was looking for and get out as soon as possible, before someone noticed his presence. So with a determined stride, Jordan continued past the kitchen and toward the stairs. If the layout was the same as his parents' house, then all the bedrooms were on the upper floor. Jordan's working theory was that the likely location for the coveted cards was in Araminta's bedroom.

Dust whirled with every step up the stairs. Spider web got stuck in Jordan's hair. While trying to remove it, dust particles found their way into his nose, causing him to succumb to a sneeze attack.

Blowing his nose on his hoodie sleeve, Jordan continued his trek. Dusk had started to fall outside, turning the hallways in front of him dark and ghostly. Once again, Jordan's cellphone flashlight solved the issue, strobing across paneled walls decorated with uninspired paintings of landscapes and flower vases. Still, nothing witchy.

The doors were all closed but even without opening them, Jordan was quite sure he knew which one belonged to Araminta. Because who else would have dried lilies of the valley—so withered they may crumble upon the smallest touch—hanging on the door, like a symbol to ward off evil spirits.

Not allowing fear or doubt to take over, Jordan pressed down the door handle and stepped into a world of glowing light. It took him a moment to realize the sheen of lilac and peony came from the setting sun, which hit the window at the exact right angle to illuminate the room. Once Jordan's eyes had adjusted to the bright light the rest of the room revealed itself to him: a four-poster bed in dark wood from which translucent fabric hung down; overflowing bookshelves that reached to the ceiling; aquarelle paintings of various flowers with scribbles in cursive beside them. Jordan wondered if Araminta had created the artwork herself. Upon closer inspection, the text was notes on attributes and usages of each plant, perhaps knowledge gleaned from the other Araminta.

But what attracted Jordan's attention most of all in the room was a small chest beside the bed, standing in the brightest sunbeam which made it appear as if shining from within. Bending down beside the intriguing object, Jordan stroked his hand across the smooth surface which revealed mystical symbols underneath the dust: animals, humans, and symbols, all arranged in spiral patterns across the surface.

Blowing away the remaining dust particles, Jordan inspected the ornate object with his fingers. The symbols were all placed on tiles that moved on a grid, like a big slide puzzle. Luckily, Jordan was good at puzzles. Excellent even. As a kid, he'd been obsessed with such them, getting gifted increasingly difficult challenges to solve for birthdays and Christmas. Which meant, this was a riddle Jordan may be able to solve.

At the top of the puzzle were three slots. Jordan's jigsaw expertise told him that the key to opening the lock was to guide the correct pieces into the slots. But how would he know what the answer was? He stroked his hands across the smooth sides of the box, looking for some kind of clue. Surely, there would be something to guide him. But the box gave him nothing in return.

Jordan once again turned his focus onto the symbols. Perhaps there was a pattern to find there. Eight times eight made sixty-four. That's how many symbols there were. Way too many to try all combinations.

Caw! Caw!

Jordan's flying friend passed by outside the window, singing its usual tune. Which sparked an idea in Jordan's brain.

Was there a crow on the board? Scanning the symbols, Jordan soon found the animal and meticulously guided it into the last slot.

Cat. Rabbit. Crow. Those were the animals that had appeared in Araminta's story, which he'd found on his first trek into the woods. If she had set the combination, maybe the tale had served as inspiration. And there was indeed both a cat and a rabbit on the board as well.

Jordan set to work guiding the remaining animals to their corresponding spots. The room around Jordan disappeared as he lost himself in the task. He was fully focused and in his element. The fact that he was in the middle of breaking and entering was lost from his conscious mind. He didn't even notice the bright rays from the sun being replaced by the shadow of night, causing the room to fall into darkness. There was only him and the light from his phone, sliding tiles left and right to create a path toward the target.

Slotting the cat tile into the free space, Jordan waited with bated breath. Was the solution correct?

Nothing happened. The box remained locked.

In frustration, Jordan slammed his hand on the box, making the tiles rattle. The next moment, a whirring sound started which was followed by the lid snapping open as if attached to springs.

Jordan gazed at the box in amazement. It appeared his answer had been correct but the tiles hadn't been slotted in properly, which his outburst had corrected.

Inside, he found an old leather-bound book, which must be the one that had belonged to the other Araminta. When Jordan carefully extracted the worn book, it fell open on a page with a header that said "Freedom". Underneath, Jordan read: "If this is what you covet, the words will set you free". There was also a picture of a bird, flying high in the sky, and a spiral of symbols, not unlike the ones on the box. Jordan put the book on the bed, figuring he would investigate it further once he'd done an inventory of everything that was in the box.

Next, he found an essay printed on thin A4 paper, titled "The Cat, The Rabbit, and The Crow". This must be the finalized version of the story Araminta had written. The one that had provided the code to open the box. The one she had handed in to her English teacher, which was proved by a big A encircled in the left corner. Jordan placed the document on the bed as well, to delve into shortly. It appeared to be a fascinating read.

Wilted flower petals covered the bottom of the seemingly empty chest. Jordan rummaged around to determine if there was any remaining content underneath.

There was something there... As Jordan dug deeper, he felt the edge of something square. Something reminding him of a playing card, although slightly larger. Could it be...

Jordan pulled up his hand, holding a mysterious card. But as his hand left the chest, it snapped close, activated by some kind of hidden trigger.

Realizing that he would have to solve the puzzle again, as the tiles had reset when the box closed, Jordan sighed. Even if the knew the code, it would take him a while to guide the tiles into place. At least he had one card in his hand. With frayed edges and a worn-out print of roses on the back, it appeared to have ancient origins. Jordan started to turn the card over.

A loud "Mroooooooow!" from behind startled Jordan just before he could take a peak at the foreboding symbol.

"Kiki?" Jordan spun to face the black cat, sitting in the doorway to Araminta's room. Something must have convinced her to get her paws dirty after all.

"Mrooooow!" Kiki uttered again, louder and with more urgency this time. With determined steps, she ran toward the window.

Being brought out of the trance-like state he'd been in while solving the puzzle, Jordan could hear voices coming from outside. No voices should be that close. And there was a glowing red sheen illuminating the dark night at regular intervals. Pushing the card into his jeans pocket, Jordan leaned across the chest to peer outside. What he saw there made his whole body freeze in panic.

Outside was a police car, blinking lights on the roof signaling its presence.

Jordan forgot how to breathe. He forgot how to think. He forgot how to act. All he could do was hyperventilate.

While rapid breaths rattled Jordan's whole being, a cascade of knocks echoed from the door downstairs.

"Is anybody in there? It's the police!" an authoritarian voice called out.