Kaya lights the candle at the basement door and waits the three seconds till it flickers red. Always, on time, Jana meows from behind the door, scratching down it with her paw.

Behind, Gale descends the stairs halfway, holding her bowl of chips. She’s never mustered the nerve to complete those stairs, unlike Kaya, who finds comfort in the screech, in confirming Jana’s life.

‘It’s almost time.’ Kaya hunkers to the door. She treats the screeching wood and yowling cat like promise. ‘We’re getting you out tonight, Jana.’

It happened ten years ago, precisely on Kaya’s eleventh birthday. Now here they were, full circle, back again.

‘Have you ever heard of a twenty-two year old Persian?’

‘I still think this basement freezes time. She’ll be the same when she leaves.’ Kaya slides a fish treat beneath the door. The darkness snatches it up and devours it before she’s finished pushing. ‘Good girl. You must’ve been extra hungry.’

‘And you think we’re strong enough?’

‘Mmm.’ She stands and looks at Gale. Below, the light from upstairs dies down to a hush, killing Kaya’s radiance. ‘And if we’re not, we’ll find out.’

‘What do you think we’ll find out, though?’

Gale pictures Jana, bones and ratchet skin, laid across the ground, ripped in different places from the force that stole her that evening. Her tail dilapitated and frayed. A zombie cat, so old it should be put out of its misery.

Kaya twists a curl of blonde hair with her index finger. ‘Just Jana.’

‘And how will she look?’

‘The same.’ Kaya’s face darkens. ‘What’s with these questions? Are you having second thoughts?’

Gale the only other person who saw the basement door gape, its hinges squeal, and the blackness inside snatch Jana up when she got too close. When that awful boy at scared her down here.

‘No. I would never. But are you having second thoughts?’

‘No.’ Kaya smiles, brilliantly, pink lips spreading. She’s always been gorgeous, in a Barbie way, that incites the belief that Gale can do anything. But not this.

Kaya sprints up the stairs, touches Gale’s shoulder, and says, ‘Get the gun.’

‘Will a gun work against a shadow?’

Kaya shrugs again, adjusts her pink tube top, and flounces back into the living room. Gale knows she promised. But she’s shaking. Kaya couldn’t love a Persian cat this much, to wait ten years lying low to fight a light-murdering, basement shadow.

‘What if we saw it wrong? What if we’ve been holding that cat captive for no good reason?’

‘At least we’ll unseal the door tonight, if all goes well.’

Construction men couldn’t after the incident. The hinges wouldn’t come off. It broke their tools. Yet Kaya is convinced that she could do it. Gale adores her for believing two twenty-one year olds could do what a gaggle of contstruction men failed at. That the reason her house became a spectacle online for years—this indestructible basement—can be remedied.

Kaya pours them glasses of coconut rum, and spills in apple soda. Gale forces herself to walk to the other staircase leading up, and press the safe keys. She drops the bowl of chips on the safe as it sighs opens. Bends, grabs the gun, and tucks it in her short pockets.

‘Gale!’

‘Coming!’

Gale enters the living room to find Kaya sat on the couch, one leg crossed over the other elegantly. Kaya grins at her, hands her a glass, and clinks them together.

‘Liquid courage. We’ll need it.’

‘You barely do.’

‘Well, because I trust this will work. If it doesn’t, oh well. At least we tried.’ This is the same Kaya who trusted she could fly at ten and broke her leg.

‘You know what I said about not having second thoughts?’

Kara downs her glass, blue eyes sparkling when they meet Gale’s. ‘Yes. And I get that. You’re scared.’ She sets aside her glass and twines their left hands together, fingers tight. ‘I am too. But I also want you to know that no one else would go down some hungry basement for me. I couldn’t do it alone either. You’re the one making me strong.’

Gale wants to turn away, to not draw herself into this. A ten year investment and she wants to break it, now. Kara leans closer, her breath kissing Gale’s cheek, scented with alcohol and apple and the strawberry lip gloss she smears religiously.

‘Can’t you let me make you strong, too, Gale?’

‘You do,’ she breathes the words.

‘Then trust me. I know this sounds like a goodbye speech, but I’m not scared it is. I’m happy it’s not. Because it’s my birthday. And you’ve chosen to give me the best gift anyone can give. You’ve kept your promise. And you will for every other birthday I’ll have from now.’

‘Yeah,’ Gale whispers, ‘Always.’

‘I really love you.’

Gale’s heart stutters when Kara squashes her into a hug. She nearly spills her drink from the intensity of it. Almost falls.

‘You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.’

Gale swallows on the best friend part. She pats Kara’s tough shoulder and pries away before her heart bursts.

‘Okay, alright.’

At least Gale can say she struggled. But Kara always finds a way to win over her, whether she knows it or not.