Missi and I have always loved going home.
After months of auditions, rehearsals, and long nights on set, Silverwood feels like a breath I’ve been holding without realizing it. Familiar streets. Familiar faces. A place where memories cling to the air and remind you who you were before life got complicated.
Teleporting would have taken seconds.
But Missi and I wanted an adventure.
That alone should have been our first warning.
Ash, Ryan, and Ryan’s daughter Ruby had already left the day before. As far as everyone knew, the guys were headed home—no surprises there. Missi and I, on the other hand, had plans. Big ones. We were going to surprise our parents and, if everything went right, take our youngest sister Dela to a red carpet event for her birthday.
Ash didn’t like the idea of us traveling alone.
“You two always mess something up,” he’d said, completely serious.
Ryan disagreed. He said we were grown women, capable of handling ourselves, and that we didn’t need a babysitter. I appreciated that—probably more than he realized. It felt good knowing someone trusted us.
The plan was simple.
Starforrest International to Starmere.
Two-hour layover.
Then straight to Suncrest International—the closest airport to Silverwood.
Anyone could do it.
Which, of course, meant Missi and I were doomed.
Dad likes to joke that we’re professionals at fiddle-farting around. According to him, we’re the only people he knows who could be late to our own funerals. I’ve always insisted he’s exaggerating.
He’s not.
I hate admitting when Ash is right—mostly because he enjoys it far too much—but this time he was. Our downfall came in the airport gift shop, where good intentions and bad multitasking collided. Missi was busy picking out gifts for everyone back home while texting Darrel. I was doing the same—shopping and texting Ash because I missed him.
If the guys knew how often Missi and I help each other craft messages—or send photos—we’d never be allowed to travel together again.
We thought we heard the announcement say our Suncrest flight was delayed an extra hour. It wasn’t. By the time we reached the gate, the seats were empty, the screens dark.
The flight had left two hours earlier.
The agent was apologetic but firm. Suncrest was booked solid. No standby. No miracles.
So we improvised.
A train to Lost Valley—the closest station to Silverwood—seemed harmless enough. I texted Ash instead of calling, because I already knew how that conversation would go. He’d ask why we didn’t just teleport. He’d be right. I’d be annoyed.
The train ride itself was peaceful. I watched the scenery blur past the window, letting myself relax for the first time all day. Missi was deeply invested in a very steamy conversation on her phone. We were distracted.
Also not a great sign.
When we thought we heard Lost Valley approaching, we grabbed our bags and stepped off without question. No checking signs. No second thoughts. Bathroom first. Panic later.
When we came back out, reality hit.
We were not in Lost Valley.
We had gotten off at the wrong station.
If Ash hadn’t already been furious about the airport, this would definitely push him over the edge. Missi and I stood there, luggage at our feet, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, both of us feeling the same sinking guilt.
We’d wanted to prove we could do this. Travel like everyone else. No powers. No shortcuts. Just us.
Instead, once again, we’d landed ourselves in trouble.
And this time, there was no easy way out