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Luz reaches up to touch the sun.
It's a familiar ritual — she's done it for years and years.
Luz remembers being excited when she and her dad attached the glowing stars to the bottom of the top bunk. The dangling ones seemed like the coolest things ever. She must have been six. Maybe seven? It wasn’t too long after they moved to Gravesfield.
Her new room seemed so scary in the dark and she kept having nightmares, so Papá wanted to make sure she’d always have a little light. “Luz para mi Luz,” he used to joke. (And it never failed to inspire a smile and/or a good-natured groan. Until he wasn't there to say it.)
Dad loved the night sky so much. He’d take a telescope along every time they went camping and would point out distant planets and constellations. They were supposed to go backpacking somewhere far away from light pollution where they could see even more stars, but first she was too young and then he was too sick. After he was gone, it was nice to have a comforting reminder of him as she drifted off to sleep.
But now? Now the centerpiece — a crescent moon overlapping the sun — reminds her of all the terrible things she set in motion by helping Philip meet the Collector. Who started breaking apart the Boiling Isles almost as soon as he was freed. (She refuses to remove the sun — it might be more of an accusation now than a sentimental memory, but her dad still put it there and she won't undo his work.)
And so the first thing Luz sees when she wakes up and the last thing she sees before sleeping doesn't let her forget that while she may be safe and reunited with her mom, Eda and King and Cool Aunt Lilith and Hooty and Raine (who needs to have a romantic reconciliation with Eda complete with serenades and flowers) and Willow's dads and Gus' dad and Mr. Blight (good riddance to Mrs. Blight) and Emira and Edric and Principal Bump and Viney and Jerbo and Barcus and Mattholomule and Morton and Tinella Nosa and everyone else are almost certainly still in some kind of danger. All because of her.
So she has to make a portal. Then at least Hunter, Amity, Willow, and Gus can go back and help fix things, if the adults haven't already. (Not Luz, though, as much as she’d love to help and see King and Eda again — even if she didn’t promise Mamá to stay in Gravesfield, she’d just cause a bigger mess if she returned. That’s all she seems to do. Best limit herself to Human Realm, where the consequences of her actions are unlikely to be genocide-level bad.)
And in the meantime there's school (even more pointless than usual) and reconnecting with her mom (who's busy juggling work and five extra kids) and introducing her friends to the Human Realm (under less-than-optimal circumstances, when no one's really sure if their family's dead or alive). Oh and there's her old promise to Vee to help her find a home, but Vee hasn't said anything about it so Luz has that filed away as a project for later.
Luz doesn't know how long she's just been lying in bed. Well, not precisely just lying in bed — her thoughts feel like they're going at a million miles an hour, shuttling between guilt and doubt and her long list of responsibilities. Surely that counts as something — it's exhausting. Everything feels like too much but Luz's brain just won't let her rest. (Maybe she doesn't deserve rest.) So Luz can't even get back to sleep, and sleep seems more useful than whatever she's doing.
An unknown amount of time passes. It could be minutes, it could be an hour. She's still in bed. Everyone else — even Willow who sleeps like a log — is long-gone.
No matter how much she wills herself to toss aside the covers and get up, she can't move. It’s like she’s made of stone. And she's one of the few people who knows exactly how that feels like. Maybe. Probably. King told her once that full petrification is irreversible, so it seems possible that it's just her and Eda. Who might not be even alive to remember, so maybe it's just Luz. (Eda has to be alive.)
She holds onto hope and then for a glorious second she feels like she can move, so she rides that momentum and puts on some clean clothes. (She skips the shower — going from dry to wet to still-not-dry feels like more than she can handle — and tells herself she can always brush her teeth after breakfast.)
When she sits on her bed to put on socks (really should have done that before the pants), there's a dangerously long pause that might turn into getting stuck again. After a few minutes she decides the socks aren't worth the trouble and heads downstairs barefoot.
It’s the weekend, so there’s no school but plenty of homework. Should she work on that history paper that's due next week? She doesn't want Mamá to worry about her grades — she's caused enough worry already and doesn't want another lecture about applying herself — but she can’t imagine how Greek and Roman philosophy is supposed to help her with anything useful. Like building a working portal. Maybe she should look over her notes from the last failed attempt to see what went wrong. (No matter that she's spent hours pouring over them already.)
As she suspected, she’s the last one in the kitchen today. There's already a big stack of dishes soaking in the sink. Probably she should still eat something, even if it means more mess to clean up. Chores! She can't remember the last time she was on dish duty, which probably means she’s dropped the ball yet again. She'll have to make up for that this weekend. Better add that to the list. (Maybe that list shouldn't just be in her head. It's a little chaotic in there.)
Her stomach growls and reminds her of her most immediate mission.
Luz opens and shuts some cabinets without really registering what’s inside. She should probably stick to something simple. Cereal? That’s supposed to be easy, right? (Nothing seems easy.)
She needs a bowl and opens a cabinet again. Except that's the one with cups and glasses, because Vee rearranged everything. (Luz hates to admit it, but having the cups near the kettle makes good sense. If only she could remember that’s where they live now.)
She tries a different cabinet. There are a couple plates but no bowls.
Luz looks in the dishwasher — the “clean” half of the magnet is up and she chooses to believe it. She finds her favorite purple (plum? blackberry? mulberry? it had a fancy color name related to some kind of fruit) Fiestaware bowl and for a brief moment she feels triumphant. Success doesn't happen often these days — she'll take what she can get.
Next comes cereal. Usually. About 80% of the time. Sometimes she likes to warm up the special lactose-free milk her mom buys, but even the shortcut of microwaving a bowl of milk feels like too much trouble. (She absolutely doesn't want a repeat of the time she was heating milk up in a saucepan and some weird skin thing formed across the top and the milk blew up and made an enormous mess. Mom wasn't too happy about that.) So cold it is then, which means cereal goes first.
There are three kinds of cereal. Somehow pouring a little bit from all three boxes seems easier than choosing just one.
The milk’s nearly gone, but there’s just enough to coat the Cheerios, Panda Puffs, and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. She likes crunchy things anyway. The empty carton almost goes back inside the fridge before she catches herself and puts it in the proper receptacle.
“I’ll add milk to the shopping list!” Vee says cheerily from the other side of the kitchen. She probably should've thought of that herself — Mom has enough to do without keeping track of all the food they keep running out of. Maybe Luz should get a part-time job — she's pretty sure she's old enough now — all these groceries must be expensive.
She sits down at the kitchen table with her bowl and discovers she failed to grab a spoon. Before she can get up, Vee hands her one. “I’m unloading the dishwasher anyway.” Of course she is — Vee's thoughtful and considerate and perfect like that. She's probably the one who did the dishes when Luz forgot.
Hunter's leaning against the kitchen counter near Vee, quietly drinking freshly made coffee from the moka pot. Willow says something about going outside and enjoying the sun, and Amity and Gus seem on board. That’s not a bad idea — soon enough, the days will get colder and gloomier and they won’t be able to do that anymore. (Luz really hopes they manage to build a portal before wintertime, even if just the thought of mistletoe and Amity is enough to make her a bit flustered. And oh it feels good to feel. Well, feel something other than worry and guilt and dread and despair.)
Should she join them? She hasn’t been the greatest girlfriend or friend lately, but maybe that’s for the best given that she won’t be returning to the Boiling Isles. Maybe she should just work on making a portal so they can go back sooner. Less heartache for everyone if she just keeps her distance and doesn’t drag things out.
But Mamá would want her to be a good host. She’s at the vet clinic today (it’s open two Saturdays a month to make it easier for people to schedule appointments), so it’s up to Luz to take care of their visitors from the Boiling Isles. Except Vee's been rather good at that too, despite being a visitor herself, so maybe Luz isn’t needed after all.
Her brain keeps weighing options and the familiar indecision paralysis (or whatever it's called) threatens to turn her into stone again.
The others (minus Vee-the-industrious and Hunter for some reason) head out but make a point to invite her to come when she’s done eating. Right — she should actually be doing that. It turns out mixing up different types of cereal isn't half-bad. Maybe she'll do it more often.
After she finishes her breakfast — but before Luz breaks through whatever's keeping her from figuring out what to do with her day — Hunter strongarms her and Vee and takes them both upstairs.
*****
Vee isn't nearly as surprised as Luz seems to be when Hunter starts his (not-so-stern) lecture about her staying permanently — they've talked about her hopes and fears more than once. It's just that she apparently wrongly assumed he'd keep all that a secret. After all, she's been keeping his.
She can't be too upset — he means well and it's rather nice to have an overprotective champion — but he really should have asked first before staging an intervention on her behalf.
*****
"So Hunter really just locked us in a room to talk things out?”
"He wouldn't lock the door," Vee says with absolute confidence.
"Metaphorically locked us in, then." Luz doesn’t bother to check.
Vee looks apologetic. "I… I didn't ask him to do this."
Luz is inclined to believe her. The first day they spoke — still separated across realms and just connected by her reflection — Vee even told her that she preferred to avoid confrontation. Nothing she's done since suggests otherwise. She never complains, never raises her voice, and is helpful to a fault.
So instead the basilisk's been bottling up the fact that after months of being Luz Noceda 2.0, she wants to be Vee Noceda. And apparently Luz's mom (their mom?) is perfectly happy with the idea. Oh and Hunter of all people noticed all this before she did. So maybe it hasn't been much of a secret after all, and Luz is just oblivious. It wouldn't be the first time.
And of course Hunter's given her the vague direction of "figure it out" on a day when her brain hasn't been particularly useful. (Not that her brain has felt particularly useful most days lately.)
Vee seems to pick up on her… reluctance? Overwhelm? Complete inability to function as a human? Or witch? "We… we don't have to get into this just now. I know Hunter just sprung all that on you. There's no rush. Really. You have a lot on your plate and figuring out where I live next isn't that important."
It’s tempting. Luz hates that it’s tempting. She's been meaning to check in with Vee. Honestly she has. But having an actual conversation with the basilisk who stole borrowed her name and face has always been relegated to basically the bottom of Luz's very long list of things she ought to be doing. Instead, they've been walking on eggshells a little. Friendly, but not exactly at ease. Okay, actually it's been a little awkward sometimes. Mostly around things related to Mom. Which is more-or-less the discussion topic that Hunter chose for them.
Luz swallows. Here goes nothing. "No, no, we shouldn't put it off. It is important. And it seems like you and Mom already have that figured out." Rats — that last bit came out a little higher pitched than she intended and sounded more like a question than the statement it was supposed to be.
Vee nods. "All I ever wanted was a place to be safe. And she feels so safe, Luz." Her eyes well up and her lips wobble. "And after she learned the truth… she understood why I did what I did and she's been so kind and… and loving." The rest comes out in a rush. "She said I could keep calling her Mamá and that I would never have to be on the run again. I was so worried that she wouldn't forgive me for taking your place, and instead… instead she's been wonderful."
"Well of course — you're all she ever wanted," Luz says darkly. She's long suspected that Vee was better at being Luz than Luz ever was. Sometimes she wonders what would have happened if she'd been killed by the Slitherbeast on the Knee or if Eda hadn't managed to save her life during her fight with Lilith. Then Luz never would have discovered that Vee took her place, Vee never would have been spooked into running to the cabin, Jacob never would have kidnapped Vee, and Vee could have just stayed Luz Noceda forever. And Mamá would have had the daughter she deserves.
"That's not true," Vee says indignantly. "She's always wanted you."
"Then why did she want me to change?" Luz can hear her own voice crack. Tears probably aren't far behind and she starts to pace partly to try to fend them off. (This would be easier if the room didn't have two extra beds.) "Why didn't she think I was good enough? And then you came along, and you were perfect. You're put together, you're tidy, you're organized, you're on time to things, you don't forget everything, you don't get in trouble with teachers, you got along just fine with the other kids at camp—"
Vee tries to get a word in while also trying to stay out of Luz's way. "One – I'm not as perfect as you think. Two –"
Luz doesn't let her finish. "She didn't even notice when you took my place — she just thought that camp fixed everything wrong with me! At first I thought it was good that she didn't think I was missing and wasn't worried about what happened to me, but then I wondered if she ever really knew me at all."
Then the tears become too much, and Luz retreats to her bunk. Great, just great — now she's becoming a snotty mess. This really has been a fantastic day, and it might not even be noon yet. (She's never been great at keeping track of the time.)
Luz feels the mattress shift as Vee sits next to her and passes her a tissue box.
"She was so relieved when she found out that I wasn't really you. She was worried when she thought you were losing interest in… in basically everything you cared about before. She missed that."
Vee gestures at the bookshelf by the bed. Everything the basilisk had once tried to throw away was already back in its proper position by the time Luz made her way to her their bedroom after that awful Day of Unity. "She loves your art and your… your… I think she called it your 'flair for the dramatic'… and your obsession with those Azura books…" She clears her throat and makes a confession. "I… uh… I actually tried one once. Since they seemed to mean so much to you and it seemed like it would be suspicious if I didn't know anything about them. But it was just so ridiculously flowery and unrealistic. I couldn't finish it. I’m sorry. I don't think I even got halfway through."
Luz lets out a (slightly watery) snort. "You're one to judge! I’ve seen you watch telenovelas with Mamá. And don’t try to tell me you’re just keeping her company."
"Fine," Vee concedes readily, and there's a hint of amusement in her voice. "Maybe I've become a little addicted to sappy romance and family drama." Her mouth twists into an almost-smile. "Fictional family drama. Real family drama is less fun."
Luz blows her nose. "I've noticed."
"But seriously." Vee looks earnest. (The gigantic eyes help.) "She loves you. She loves you so much."
"I know." Luz has never doubted that, even when she knows she's been a disappointment. "She loves you too."
"She has a big heart," Vee says simply.
That's certainly true. She's witnessed it all her life, between Mom's work with mistreated animals and the way she didn't even hesitate to take in a bunch of kids she never met before. Somehow Mamá makes feeding, clothing, and comforting six (traumatized) teens look easy-peasy lemon-squeezey, so she'll have no trouble at all if when it's down to two. (She has to believe the others will find a way home someday. And she supposes she's getting used to the idea of Vee making a permanent home here.)
Vee opens and closes her mouth a few times before she speaks. “I don't know much about parents, but it seems like maybe you should talk to her about what you just told me? That… that seemed like a lot."
"I will," Luz promises lies promises. When she's ready.
They sit quietly for a while. (There's the occasional sniffle.)
Vee's the one who winds up (somewhat timidly) breaking the silence again. "There's something I need to say. I… I'm not angry exactly. And I'm mostly over it now. I think. And I know I kinda said this all before when we first met. So sorry if I'm repeating myself. But it's just…" She looks away. "It's been really hard for me to forgive you for just running away to the Demon Realm and leaving her. I'm glad you did — it maybe saved my life to take your place — but you still hurt her."
"I know it doesn't make it right, but I didn't mean to. I was a failure here. I thought I wouldn't be a failure there." Luz laughs bitterly. "Turns out I was wrong about that."
"What do you mean?" Vee sounds surprised. "You discovered glyph magic and made friends and got a girlfriend and…"
Luz shakes her head and worries that she's said too much.
"Something seems to be bothering you," Vee says cautiously. "I wish you'd tell me… or at least somebody."
“Hunter knows." The Collector part, if not her future plans. "Most of it,” she amends.
Vee looks skeptical. “And you’re taking coping advice from Hunter? Mr. Digging-My-Own-Grave?”
This seems like an excellent opportunity to change the subject. "So you heard that story."
"Yeah, we've… we've gotten close. The whole Golden Guard thing was a little… weird at first," Vee admits, "but actually we have a lot in common."
Luz considers that for a moment and… Huh. "Yeah, I can see that."
"But we're not here to talk about Hunter." Vee's apparently not willing to get entirely sidetracked. "He wants us to air out our grievances. Is there something you want to say to me? Or… or anything you want to know?"
"I guess I didn't expect you and Mamá to get so attached so quickly?" And that's a bit ironic or something ironic-adjacent given that Luz acquired a little brother and a Cool Aunt and a… and an Eda of her own.
"We started to get to know each other when I was at camp," Vee says softly. "We talked a bit during the car ride there and she said she wanted to hear from me. I didn't have a phone or anything, but I wrote letters and the camp sent them and she started writing back. I'd tell her what I was learning… And then she'd share funny little stories about when she and Dad were buying a house and figuring out loan stuff and—"
Her eyes get even bigger than usual. "Sorry! I'm not… I'm not trying to steal your dad too! It's just that's how she talked about him — when I was pretending to be you — and so that's just how I think about him sometimes."
"You're not stealing my mom." Maybe Luz felt that way for a while, but deep down she's known for a long time that's not true. "And I want more people to know about Papá. So his memory stays alive." Even if he's not. (She's a little reminded of Coco — Día de Muertos isn't all that far off so she and Mamá will probably do their annual rewatch. Luz has mixed feelings about inviting the others to join — it's almost always just been the two of them. But maybe by some miracle they'll make or find a portal by then and her friends will already be back home, so it'll just be Luz, Mamá, and Vee. Which doesn't seem too terrible.)
"So you're ok with this? Me staying here? Sharing Mamá?" Hope is written all over the basilisk's face.
"I found a little brother in the Demon Realm. I'd be a hypocrite if I wasn't ok with Mom finding another daughter." (Luz still isn't quite ready to define Eda.) She takes a deep breath. "I’m sorry for being jealous. I’m sorry for not making you feel welcome."
Vee moves a little closer and their elbows bump. “My turn. I’m sorry for just… taking over your life. And trying to get rid of your stuff when it seemed like you weren’t coming back. For a long time I didn't really want you to come back. I wanted you to stay there forever so she'd be my mom and I’d keep my friends. But that was selfish of me. And unfair to her. And you. And me too, actually. Because I would always be living a lie. And yeah, me-as-you was never exactly you, but I was never me either.”
Luz never really thought about it that way before, and it helps to hear Vee's side of things. The apology doesn't hurt.
"But we're both here now. And there's room here for both of us." Luz's smile is shaky — and maybe still a little weepy — but it's real. "We even had a bunk ready for you. It's almost like you were destined to join the family." Maybe there's some forced cheerfulness there, but positive emotions are hard these days.
It starts out a bit stiff, but soon enough they relax and it feels good to share a hug. And maybe Luz spent the first 14 years of her life as an only child, but now she's had a little brother for a few months and sometimes she wonders if she's on her way to getting a big brother too. (Hunter’s certainly protective and annoying enough for the role.) Adding a sister can't be that much more difficult, can it? Perhaps there'll be an upside to staying in the Human Realm.
(It’s hard not to think too much about the brother she left behind on the Boiling Isles — the brother she may never see again.)
*****
Vee still thinks Hunter should have asked first. Probably. Maybe. But it's entirely possible that she would have said no if he'd asked and nothing would have changed.
The changes aren't all that dramatic. They don't need to be — Luz is naturally kind and generous and willing to help everyone. She was already more than fine as a (relatively new) friend — it’s just that Vee wanted more.
But now they’ve (at least mostly) cleared the air. They're talking regularly and those interactions feel a little less uncomfortable. And it's such a relief to just spend time with Mamá without stressing so much about being too affectionate and upsetting her real daughter. Part of Vee can't entirely let go of the fear that she'll need to leave and make a new start yet again, but those thoughts are muffled now.
As for Luz… it's certainly not obvious if she's doing any better lately. Her eyes still look so dim and she walks around like she has a huge weight on her shoulders. It's hard to reconcile her with the Luz Vee's seen in old family photos and heard about in Mamá's stories. And yeah, she's been through a lot — all of them have — but she's bottling something up. And Vee knows something about keeping secrets for too long.
It doesn't quite feel like her place to pry it out of Luz, but she hopes someone will soon. If this goes on long enough maybe she'll take a page from Hunter's book and help stage an intervention of her own. That seems like the sort of thing family is supposed to do, and she does want to be family.
Vee’s not Luz’s sister. Yet. And to be fair, there are times when she doesn’t feel entirely like Camila’s daughter yet either. But she will be.
(And maybe the Noceda family can find room for a son/brother too.)