“Okay, this is cute,” Mack says immediately, scanning the cabin. “Like, annoyingly cute.”
Phoenix walks past her, already assessing. “It’s giving an independent woman with a backup generator vibe.”
“Idohave a backup generator,” I call after her.
“Of course you do,” she mutters.
Nessa’s car door opens last. She steps out carefully, like she’s transporting something fragile, maybe dangerous, and then rounds the car with a massive box in her arms.
I narrow my eyes. “What in the hell is that?”
She sets it down with ceremony. “This, my friend, is the New Beginnings Kit, our theme for the night.”
Phoenix deadpans, “That sounds expensive and unnecessary.”
“Not expensive, definitely necessary, and it’s intentional,” Nessa corrects, already digging through it. “We are not cleansing the cabin. We areclaimingit.”
Mack pauses mid-unfold of her chair. “Okay … I like that better.”
Nessa pulls out a bundle of cedar tied with twine. “Cleansing cedar. Not sage. We’re not basic like that.”
Phoenix crosses her arms. “Debatable.”
Next comes a tangled mess of fairy lights. “And these,” Nessa continues, holding them up proudly, “are for chaotic energy realignment.”
“They’re not even plugged in,” Mack points out.
“Exactly,” Nessa retorts with a wink. “Unpredictable.”
I laugh, shaking my head as I grab a chair and drag itcloser to the fire pit. The Adirondack wood is smooth under my palm, and the curve of the armrest is familiar in its craftsmanship.
Phoenix is already crouched by the fire, lighting kindling. “So what’s the actual plan here? Are we manifesting, or are we just drinking?”
“Both,” Nessa says with a sarcastic scoff. “Obviously.”
Mack looks at me then, quieter. “You okay being out here alone?”
I busy myself with adjusting my sleeve. “I’ve got Wi-Fi, a fire pit, and emotionally unstable lighting. I’m thriving.” I shrug.
Phoenix doesn’t look up from the flame she’s coaxing to life. “That wasn’t the question.”
The fire catches, small at first, then steady. I exhale, watching the flames instead of them. “I’m … figuring it out.”
That seems to be enough for no one to push. Nessa claps once. “Perfect. Then let’s begin.”
“God,” Phoenix mutters. “We’re really doing this.”
Nessa hands each of us a candle, none of which appear to match. Mine is crooked, slightly melted at the base.
“Step one,” she says. “You say something you’re leaving behind.”
Mack goes first. “Bad skincare decisions.”
“Low bar.” Phoenix wrinkles her nose in disapproval.
“Let me live!” Mack exclaims.
Phoenix sighs, then adds, “Waiting around to be chosen.”
