Chapter 1: The Closet's Hidden Invitation
Ben chucked the tube into the small metal trash can by his desk, the cheap plastic clattering against the bottom. "Found this on the floor," he said, his voice flat. "Someone's lipstick."
His mother didn't even look over from where she was cheerfully tying a mesh bag of pungent mothballs to the closet's doorknob. "Previous owners left all sorts of odds and ends, sweetie," she chimed, her tone dismissive. "Think of it as a welcome gift."
He slumped onto the edge of his bed, the springs groaning in protest, and when his eyes flicked back to the trash can, the glittery gold tube was sitting perfectly upright on the edge of his discarded basketball jersey, the cap neatly removed.
He stared at it, a cold prickle running down his neck. He knew he’d thrown it in; he’d heard it hit. With a frustrated grunt, he snatched it up and marched it back to the trash, this time making sure it was buried under a wad of used packing paper.
Downstairs at dinner, as he reached for the mashed potatoes, his mom paused, her fork hovering. “Honey,” she said, her voice a mix of curiosity and mild concern, “why are you carrying that lipstick around?”
Ben followed her gaze to his own right hand. His fingers were curled loosely around the glittering gold tube, its cap missing, as if he’d just casually picked it up from the table. A jolt of pure, electric shock locked his muscles. The scent of floral perfume and old dust seemed to cling to his skin.
He dropped it like it had burned him, shoving it across the table. "Something weird is happening," he muttered. "Like, seriously." His mom snorted gently. "I've got some genuine weirdness for you," his dad chimed in, pointing with his knife to the stack of unopened job application letters stuffed next to the salt shaker. "Focus on the tangible crisis, son."