The town awoke to chaos. The cemetery was taped off. Police and press gathered.
"Two graves disturbed. Both desecrated," a reporter announced. "And the body of Juno Mayflower and Eleanor Myle's is missing."
Citizens of Nanterre murmured theories: cultists, grave robbers, even satanic rituals.
Raquel and Emily stared at the TV in horror.
"We didn't even choose his grave…" Emily whispered.
Raquel's hands trembled. "But we poured the mixture… the binding spell. What if it didn't care who we meant?"
From the kitchen doorway, arms crossed and eyebrow raised, stood Mrs. Elara, Emily's mother.
"You two look like you just saw a ghost," she said with a teasing smirk. "Or is this one of those 'summon the dead' conversations I just happened to overhear?"
Emily's face drained of color. "Mum—"
"Oh, don't 'Mum' me," Elara interrupted, walking into the room and picking up the TV remote. "First I catch you sneaking in at dawn, now I hear 'We didn't choose his grave' and something about 'binding spells'." She raised an eyebrow. "Should I be concerned, or did you two start a very... spooky book club?"
Raquel tried to laugh. It came out cracked. "It's… just a joke."
"Uh-huh." Elara looked between the two. "So, the cemetery was vandalized last night. Two body's missing. And my daughter and her very intense friend were out past midnight muttering Latin."
Emily tried to deflect. "Mum, you're being dramatic."
"Dramatic? No. Curious? Absolutely." She leaned closer, lowering her voice with a playful whisper, "So… which one of you is the necromancer, and do I need to hide the cat?"
Both girls went stiff.
Mrs. Elara blinked, then gave a slow, drawn-out, knowing "Hmm."
"Don't worry," she added, softer now. "Just… tell me if I should be lighting sage or packing bags, alright?"
And with a final glance at the duo, she turned and walked back to the kitchen leaving behind two very nervous girls.
Emily stared after her mother, pulse hammering in her ears. "She heard everything."
Raquel nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think she knows?"
"She knows something," Leigh Emily, pacing. "But she won't push yet."
They sat in silence, both replaying the night in their minds. The incantation. The flickering candles. The rustle of dry grass underfoot. The sheer panic when the night guard's flashlight beam cut across the graves.
In their scramble to run, Selene had tripped, her bag ripping open. The glass vial of bloodroot oil, the pouch of crushed lavender and bone dust all meant for Eleanor spilled onto a different, weather-worn grave to their right.
Neither of them had time to notice the name.
Now, that mistake might be the center of the city's growing fear.
Later that day, the news broadcast cut in again.
"...Authorities are still investigating the incident at Ravenhill Cemetery. A second grave appears to have been disturbed, with strange residue left behind. Police have not ruled out ritualistic vandalism. Citizens are advised to avoid the area."
On the family's living room couch, Mrs. Elara sat with her tea, watching the screen.
Raquel and Emily sat on opposite ends, quiet. The volume wasn't loud, but the words still struck hard.
Then Mrs. Elara cleared her throat.
"Girls," she said calmly, not looking away from the screen, "Just so we're clear… if whatever you did wakes up something that starts knocking on my windows at 3 a.m. I will be moving to Aunt Mara's."
Emily opened her mouth, then closed it.
Raquel muttered, "Duly noted."
Elara glanced at them with a raised eyebrow. "Good. Now… who wants pancakes?"
Even with everything, they laughed a little.
"Hello ladies,how is it?" Emily's dad voice came from the entrance.