Chapter 2 - Where it all begins

Where it all begins

Early January, ten months earlier

Scattered screws, stray plywood, and an inscrutable IKEA manual lay on the floor, silently testing Nanda’s patience. Glaring at the mess, she wondered how she had been talked into tackling this bookcase alone. Easy assembly, the box had claimed, though apparently, “easy” was open to interpretation.

She took a deep breath, convincing herself it couldn’t be that complicated. After all, backing down from a challenge wasn’t her style. If her can-do attitude had carried her through worse, surely it could get her through this too.

At thirteen, she mastered the art of making beef Wellington. In high school, while working part-time at a resort near Arenal Volcano, she transformed an overgrown field into an organic vegetable garden. By her sophomore year, that same relentless drive had her breezing through econometrics like it was basic arithmetic.

And yet, this IKEA five-shelf bookcase somehow defeated her. For hours, she’d watched countless YouTube tutorials, but the pieces remained stubbornly unfinished.

In her defense, this was her first time assembling furniture. Until this month, she’d lived in dorms where everything was set up and paid for, courtesy of her full-ride scholarship. The opportunity to test her DIY skills had never come up. And with her parents still in Costa Rica, it wasn’t like they were going to hop on a seven-hour flight just to help her turn this mess into something functional.

Now, in the middle of her barely furnished bedroom, Nanda’s flat-pack nightmare had officially boiled over into full-blown irritation. She stared at the wobbly frame, then at her laptop, fingers drumming as another unskippable ad taunted her.

A burst of laughter echoed down the hall from Lu’s room, slicing through her frustration. Hope sparked within her. Maybe Lu could be the reinforcements she so desperately needed. Shoving her laptop aside, she made her way to his room.

And just like that, she’d made her second mistake of the day.

---

“I’m telling you, this thing is total garbage,” Lu grumbled, squinting at the crumpled instruction manual. “Are we missing a page or what?” He flipped the manual over, then back again, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Unfortunately for Nanda, assembling furniture wasn’t exactly Lu’s strong suit either. After nearly undoing all her progress, Lu sat back on his heels, hands on his hips, and let out an exaggerated sigh.

“Well, that was a total waste of time,” he muttered, fishing his phone out of his pocket. A few taps later, he was Googling how much they might get for returning the now “slightly used” furniture to the store.

“Alright, people, happy hour starts now!” Fiona declared, striding into Nanda’s room. In her hands, a lapis-blue ceramic tray held delicate glasses and a chilled bottle of umeshu, the very one she’d brought back from her trip to Japan.

“Special day calls for special drinks,” she added, tapping the bottle triumphantly.

As she set everything down with ceremonial care, her gaze swept over Nanda’s room, which still looked like an abandoned construction site. Not much had changed since she’d last been in here—an hour ago, maybe.

“So, uh, how’s that end table coming along?” she asked, dragging a milky green bar stool from the kitchen, the legs scraping softly against the carpet.

“It’s a bookcase,” Nanda and Lu answered in unison.

“Ah … if you say so.” Fiona chuckled, casting a skeptical glance at the mess on the floor. Bookcase or end table, either way, helping wasn’t on the agenda. She had ninety-nine fun things planned for the first day in their new apartment, and staring at a jumble of birch plywood and cable ties wasn’t one of them.

“Anyway, you two look like you could use a drink,” she said, filling their glasses before downing her own in one go.

Nanda eyed the unfinished bookcase, then her friends. The perfectionist in her hated leaving things incomplete, but after hours of struggling, a break felt earned. Besides, the thing wasn’t going anywhere.

“Great idea. I give up,” Lu declared, beating her to the punch as he mic-dropped his multi-bit screwdriver. He reached for the crackers from the wooden serving board, a souvenir from last year’s Black Friday spree at the Mall of America. Now that had been an unforgettable shopping trip: they’d arrived with four empty suitcases and somehow left with seven overflowing ones.

Nanda took a sip, brightening. “Yum! Great choice, Fi.”

“Oh, thank you.” Fiona grinned, pride creeping into her voice. “This is easily the second-best omiyage I brought back from Japan.”

For Fiona’s family, Japan had always been their go-to destination, with the ritual of visiting at least twice a year. Last June, they’d hiked near Nachi Falls to celebrate her brother’s promotion to chief of staff for a prominent assemblyman in Macau. Six months later, they returned for their traditional New Year’s visit—two magical weeks in the snow-covered Shirakawa village, where she’d picked up the bottle.

“Hold up,” Lu wondered aloud. “Second-best? What topped this?”

“Remember that daiginjo sake I brought back last summer?”

“Honestly? Not a clue.”

“The one with the wooden box,” Fiona reminded him, eyes still on her phone. “We had it at that party when Noah inhaled too much helium.”

“Oh, that one!” Lu nodded, the memory finally surfacing. “Yeah, that was hilarious. He sounded like a chipmunk for hours. Fun night.”

Leaning back, he stretched his arms over his head. “Speaking of Noah, where is he? Wasn’t he supposed to land, like, an hour ago?”

“He did,” Fiona replied. “He’s in a cab now and should be here any minute, but his bags are still in Chicago.”

Half-listening while scrolling for a new tutorial, Nanda turned to Fiona. “Wait, what? How does that even happen?”

Fiona finally set her phone down. “Apparently they forgot to recheck their bags during the layover at O’Hare.”

“Well, at least the bags are in Chicago and not, like, shipped back to Calgary or something.” Nanda shrugged, trying to see the glass-half-full side of the situation.

“Of all the places,” Lu cut in, topping off his glass, “they had to pick Banff. Isn’t it like freezing up there?”

He knew the answer, of course. Noah and his girlfriend, Elena Winter, were die-hard adventurers, always chasing remote hikes and secluded mountaintop villages. But Banff? In this weather? He just couldn’t understand why they had picked it over the Superstition Mountains, a spot he knew they had also been eyeing for months.

“And get this,” he continued, “not a single post on their Instagram.”

None of them were surprised. Noah and Elena preferred to keep their memories to themselves, typical “live-in-the-moment” types. The last thing Elena had posted was a blurry shot of a squirrel running past the UCSD sign, back in September. And Noah? His most recent update had been that mini roast turkey he and Nanda had cooked for Friendsgiving, right before they went Black Friday shopping.

“Didn’t you go to Banff once?” Nanda asked, turning to Fiona with a curious look. “Anything cool to do besides, you know, not freeze to death?”

“I did!” Fiona confirmed. “But timing is everything. July’s perfect, or early September if you want to avoid the summer crowds. You remember my friend Ashley, right? She—”

Mid-sentence, her phone buzzed on the table, its screen flashing with a new message.

“Speak of the devil,” she said with a smirk, jumping to her feet. “Noah’s here!”

---

This wasn’t Noah’s first time stepping into his new apartment building, The Humphreys. His soccer buddy Emil, another North Rhine-Westphalia transplant who shared his talent for beer chugging, had lived in the building before, so Noah knew exactly where to go.

At apartment 228, he set his bag down and raised a hand to knock. Before he could, the door swung open.

There they were: his three new roommates, eagerly waiting to welcome him.

“No way!” Noah’s eyes widened as he stepped inside. “This place is … wow.”

He yanked off his beanie and tossed it onto a nearby mid-century walnut console table, a piece straight out of Architectural Digest and undoubtedly one of Fiona’s many artsy finds. Clearly, she had gone full HGTV on their place. From minimalist Japanese ceramic vases to a striking moss wall, the common area brimmed with unique, conversation-starting pieces from around the world.

“Thank you!” Fiona beamed. “Now all we need is a stone wall fountain over there, and we’re set.” She gestured to the space between the fiddle leaf fig and a framed Hammershøi print—Dust Motes Dancing in Sunbeams, a gift from Noah’s trip home.

“Or,” Lu chimed in, “we could go with that giant canvas of us four doing the Ferris Bueller pose at the Art Institute of Chicago.”

“Nope. My hair was a disaster in that photo.” Fiona waved her hand dismissively. Before Lu could argue, she added, “And no, we’re not putting up those giant Joseph Ducreux self-portraits either!”

She knew exactly where his mind was going.

“So, any word on the luggage yet?” Nanda’s voice carried from the kitchen.

“Sorry, a wall fountain?” Noah asked, half-serious, wondering if Fiona was actually planning such a thing.

“I was just joking.” Fiona laughed.

“Oh, good.” Noah nodded, still trying to picture a stone cascade in their living room. “And yes, they said my bags should show up in three business days. Elena’s situation is a bit trickier, though. She’s headed to New York to see friends, and all her gifts are stuck at O’Hare.”

“See? What did I tell you?” Fiona jumped in. “You guys should’ve booked a direct flight!”

“Yeah, yeah, Ms. First Class. You do know it costs triple to fly directly from Calgary to Minneapolis, right?” Noah chuckled. “But seriously, look at this place. When did you guys start decorating?”

“Well, for Nanda and me, it’s been five hours. But Fiona? Probably more like five weeks,” Lu replied, handing Noah a bottle of water. “When we walked in this morning, we thought we were in the wrong apartment. Brand-new furniture everywhere, tags still attached, even some fancy sage-eucalyptus diffuser going. Nanda and I literally ran back downstairs to check if we had the right unit.”

“You did not!” Noah laughed.

“Oh, we absolutely did,” Lu insisted. “The leasing office probably thinks we’re crazy now.”

“Seriously, great job, Fi,” Noah said with a contented sigh, collapsing onto the oversized bean bag by the floor-to-ceiling window. The cushion swallowed him up, instantly putting him at ease. A cozy bean bag had been on his wish list for months, so Fiona’s decision to green-light it felt like a win.

Nanda appeared from the kitchen, carrying a tray of hors d’oeuvres. Cooking had always been her passion, and over winter break, she had taken it to the next level after scoring a free year-long subscription to Bon Appétit. She even dragged Lu into what she called their “culinary adventure,” though it proved short-lived. Lu bailed after nearly setting her kitchen on fire during a failed souffle attempt. Nevertheless, Nanda persevered, perfecting a dozen crowd-pleasing recipes along the way. Tonight, with little time to spare, she had decided to keep things simple yet flavorful: pico de gallo on baked sweet potato slices and prosciutto-wrapped avocado.

“So what’s your game plan?” she asked, making her way over to Noah. “Are you hauling your stuff over tonight?”

Noah, now practically one with the bean bag, cracked open an eye.

“Nah, not tonight,” he mumbled, stifling a yawn. “Most of my boxes are at Tobias’s place. I’ll deal with them tomorrow. You guys need any help moving?”

“I’m all set.” Lu waved off the offer. “Got a storage unit over by the Twins stadium. Plenty of time to sort it out later.”

“Procrastinating much?” Fiona teased.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Fi,” Lu shot back, rolling his eyes without any real bite. “Look, I signed up for six months, but then I got this amazing deal, so I just extended it another six…”

He trailed off, noticing Nanda’s pursed lips and Fiona’s raised eyebrows.

“Okay, I know how it sounds, but hear me out,” he continued, his words tumbling out faster now. “It’s actually super handy. I’ve got my bike there, and my old TV, and—”

“Hold up.” Noah sat up straighter, suddenly alert. “You still have that TV? I thought you got rid of that months ago!” He glanced at Nanda and Fiona, clearly aligning himself with their collective disapproval.

“Seriously, Lu. Hoarder much?” Fiona laughed.

“Hey, hey! Is this a housewarming or an intervention?” Lu flushed, squaring his shoulders. “I just thought … you know, the space might come in handy. Eventually.”

“Textbook hoarder logic,” Noah quipped.

“Oh, whatever.” Lu crossed his arms tightly over his chest. “I think it’s a smart move.”

“Hey, we’re just messing with you!” Fiona said as she pulled a small bag from her pocket. The second she unzipped it, a sharp, earthy scent filled the room. Unmistakably weed.

She held it out. “How about a little peace offering?”

Lu blinked, a mix of surprise and hesitation flickering across his face. “Isn’t it a bit … early for that?”

“Yeah, it’s not even nine,” Noah agreed.

Fiona, however, remained unruffled. “Oh, please. It’s never too early to celebrate new beginnings.” She snatched an empty soda can from the table, giving it an appraising look.

“This will do for now,” she proclaimed. “Can someone toss me a plastic bag? Gotta cover that fire alarm.”

“Ah, what the hell. Count me in,” Noah decided, pushing himself up to crack open the windows.

“Me three,” Lu chimed in, tossing a crumpled plastic bag to Fiona.

“Now we’re talking!” Fiona grinned, easily catching the bag. She turned toward the kitchen, where Nanda was busy checking on her blueberry pie. “Nanda! Last call! You sure you’re not gonna join us?”

“Ah, I don’t know,” Nanda murmured, glancing at her pie. Normally, she was the responsible one, the one to keep everyone in check, and this would be an easy “no” for her. But it was their first day in the new place, and the mood was infectious. Plus, let’s be real: peer pressure was no joke.

“Oh, screw it,” she declared, pulling off her oven mitts. “I’ll try it.”

The room erupted into cheers, and without missing a beat, Fiona launched into an impromptu “How to Use a Can as a Smoking Device 101” masterclass for Nanda.

While Fiona demonstrated, Nanda’s gaze drifted toward the world beyond their cozy bubble. Something outside the window caught her eye—a quick flash of lights, just enough to set her on edge.

She squinted into the distance, trying to make out the figures moving toward their building. As they came into focus, her heart plummeted. Two men, one in a crisp blue uniform, were heading straight for the entrance. A badge on his chest caught the streetlights with a metallic gleam.

“Oh shit. Are they cops?” Nanda hissed. “Duck, quick!”

The air fryer timer beeped in the background. Their first night in the new apartment was about to get very, very real.