The scorching July sun beat down on the New Orleans street, but a little girl on a pink bike, bell jingling, still managed to smile. It was a fleeting moment of hope in a world that felt devoid of it. My eyes, however, darted to my father, who was packing our lives onto the front lawn. California, my home, the last tangible link to my mother, was fading.

Memories of her death were still raw, a vivid nightmare replaying in my mind. "Dad, watch out!" I'd screamed, seeing the bus. But he was too consumed by anger, yelling about lasagna, to notice. Glass shattered, my glasses flew, and then a deafening bang before darkness consumed me.

When I awoke, my half-broken glasses found, I saw him pulling her from the wreckage. We tugged together, desperate, just as the car exploded, throwing us clear. My body screamed with pain, but my mother's almond eyes, filled with tears, met mine. "Amelia, you are a beautiful and intelligent girl... This necklace has been in our family for ages. Take it, it will protect you and bring you good luck." A tear fell as she gave up the ghost.

Now, the crescent necklace, her last gift, lay proudly around my neck. The Uber driver rushed us to the airport, and I sat numbly as California, the only home I'd ever known, vanished from view. New Orleans. The city where the supernatural meets the natural. It sounded like mumbo-jumbo, but as we drove through streets adorned with ancestral artifacts, a flicker of excitement ignited. It was quickly extinguished by the sight of our new house: smaller, dirtier, infested. The only striking feature was the fireplace, home to a dead rat. My room upstairs was worse: creaking bed, cockroaches. Suffocated, I fled outside, only to be stopped by the most breathtaking sight: a boy. Derek.

“Are you alright?” he asked, pulling me from my daze. “Yes, I’m fine.” I stuttered, taking his outstretched hand. “Amelia.” He smiled. And just like that, New Orleans didn't seem so bad after all.