Daughter of a Witch

AU - A Fresh Start

The U-Haul's engine groaned as Rio reversed it into the driveway, the sound cutting through the stillness of the Westview cul-de-sac. Y/n sat in the passenger seat, fiddling with the zipper of her hoodie, her expression a mix of exhaustion and apprehension. The modest two-story house before them had a charming, albeit slightly weathered, look-a fresh start in every sense of the word. The pale blue paint was chipped in places, and the flowerbeds framing the porch were overrun with weeds, but it had potential. It was a blank canvas, waiting to be filled with memories.

"Well, kiddo," Rio said brightly, killing the engine and turning to face her daughter. "Welcome home."

Y/n gave a small, tight-lipped smile, her gaze lingering on the house. She wasn't quite ready to call it home, not yet. The word felt too big, too heavy, like a sweater two sizes too large.

Rio hopped out of the truck with practiced ease, clapping her hands together. "Let's get to it. The sooner we unpack, the sooner we can find where I stashed the Pop-Tarts."

The first box they carried inside was labeled "Essentials" in Rio's loopy handwriting. It was stuffed with mismatched mugs, a kettle, and the instant coffee packets that Rio swore by. The house was eerily quiet, its walls bare and rooms echoing with their every step. Y/n gravitated to the living room, where a large bay window let in the morning sunlight. She perched on the edge of a moving box, eyes scanning the unfamiliar space.

The emptiness felt oppressive, almost as if the house itself were holding its breath. Yet, the sunlight filtering through the window caught the dust motes dancing in the air, giving the room a fragile sense of warmth.

Rio emerged from the kitchen with a roll of packing tape in one hand and a triumphant smile. "Alright, soldier, what's next?" she asked, her voice upbeat despite the dark circles under her eyes.

"Unpack the Wi-Fi," Y/n quipped, earning a laugh from her mom.

Rio shook her head, grinning. "Nice try. But first, we conquer the kitchen. Can't live on sarcasm alone, kid." She ducked back into the other room, leaving Y/n alone with her thoughts.

Y/n sighed, her fingers tracing absent patterns on the dusty surface of the box beneath her. The idea of a fresh start sounded good on paper, but in practice, it was heavier than the heaviest box in the U-Haul. Still, her mom's laughter made the weight a little easier to bear. Maybe, just maybe, this house could feel like something close to home someday.

It wasn't long before they fell into a rhythm. Rio attacked the kitchen with the precision of a seasoned general, unloading boxes and arranging utensils while muttering to herself about where the cutting board had vanished to. Y/n, on the other hand, claimed the upstairs bedroom with the window overlooking the street. It wasn't the largest room, but the view of the quiet cul-de-sac had a strange sort of charm.

Her bedframe was a puzzle of wooden planks and screws, but she tackled it while on FaceTime with her best friends, Kate and Yelena. The two chatted nonstop, their voices a familiar comfort that filled the quiet house, bouncing off the bare walls and making the emptiness feel a little less oppressive.

Menwhile in the kitchen, Rio stood surrounded by a sea of half-unpacked boxes, each one promising hours of work ahead. She sighed, running a hand through her short curls, her eyes scanning the chaos. At her feet was a battered cardboard box labeled "Memories," written in thick black marker that had long since started to fade. She hadn't planned to unpack it just yet-it always brought with it a mix of emotions she wasn't sure she had the energy to confront today. But when she knelt to move it aside, the lid popped open, revealing a cascade of papers, old photos, and trinkets.

Curiosity got the better of her, and she sank cross-legged onto the tile floor, lifting the first few items off the top. Her hands paused on a piece of faded construction paper, the edges crinkled and soft with age. She picked it up carefully, as though it might crumble if she held it too tightly.