By the time we get home from class, Emmett is already waiting on the front porch. He’s perched on the railing, and he’s so short, his feet dangle freely. As usual, he’s dressed from head to toe in black, and he’s sporting his signature scowling resting face, which is basically the only accessory he ever wears aside from his silver ring and black cord necklace. There is a Tupperware container of donuts in his lap, and I fist-pump the air. Twice. Baking is Emmett’s number one love in life, and his donuts are so good I once bedazzled a T-shirt to say DONUT TOUCH MY DONUTS! Uh-huh, I’m totes obsessed.

Emmett passes me the Tupperware. “Thought we might need some brain food.”

I throw him a grateful smile and hug the donuts to my chest as we walk to the front door.

“Thank you for keeping the leaves out, door-sin,” Hattie says to the door.

“You’re so good at keeping the rain out, door-sin,” I coo.

The door groans happily in response and unlocks itself for us.

Emmett, on the other hand, forgets to address the door-sin correctly. “You look so shiny and mahogany today,” he says.

Sure enough, the door hits him in the butt as he walks over its threshold. Rookie mistake.

“Ow! I mean, you look so shiny and mahogany today, door-sin,” he corrects himself.

Gifted homes are pretty special. Eomma says it’s because they witness so much magic they become a little magical themselves. The walls breathe and the floors listen, and sometimes they whisper into our ears while we’re asleep. Certain parts of the house—usually the ones we use the most—absorb so much enchantment that they come alive as spirits, or sin. The door-sin, the kitchen-sin, and the toilet-sin are the main ones, but sometimes you get others, too.

The house-sins protect our homes, but you have to make sure you say something nice every time you use them or they can make your life pretty miserable. One time Hattie forgot to give the toilet-sin a compliment, and for the next two weeks the lights kept turning off while she was doing her business. It was particularly scary at night, and I had to stand outside the door each time she peed so she wouldn’t freak out.

We get to our bedroom, and Emmett starfishes out on my bed. “So what’s this super-important thing we need to brainstorm?”

Mong, our fluffy white Samoyed, jumps on top of him to lick his face, and Emmett’s black T-shirt is immediately covered in snowy fur. He could probably make a sweater out of all the Mong hair he picks up at our place.

Hattie and I update him on our plans, and he stares at us in disbelief.

“Wait, so you’re gonna break into an enchanted safe, steal the spellbook, then cast a dangerous spell that your mom has forbidden you to learn?”