The black, green, and gold flyers showed up a month before the new year. Plastered haphazardly on every imaginable surface, they often appeared where you expected and always where you didn't.

Flyers were found in dog bowls and bird's nests and between the pages of dusty, old books. One was even glued tight to the tombstone of Haverhill's old mayor, Mr. Radcliffe, who notoriously hated late-night parties.

The gilded lettering scrawled out little information, listing the time (five hours before midnight) and the place (the entirety of the hill to the north of town), but never the price. Regardless, the residents of Haverhill didn't need the flyers. The carnival's yearly reputation preceded itself, and whispers spread through the town, a fast-flowing river of excitement, wonder, and gossip.

The Aurum Carnival had returned, and everyone counted down the days, even more so than the winter holiday. After 30 days of waiting, the town was abuzz on New Year's Eve.

The tents showed up three days prior. Children and teenagers made games of running up to the buttery gold, green, and black silk tents, daring each other to peek inside. The adults went out of their way on their morning walks and commutes to go by the hill.

Everyone wanted to go, everyone except Beatrice.

"You can't go."

"What? But Beatrice, everyone is going! All my friends from school are going and even—" this part was said with reverence, "Eloise."

Beatrice raised an eyebrow at her younger sister, and Harper blushed.

"I don't care if everyone's going. You're not. You have a school project due in three days which you've procrastinated on all break, and Mom and I are working, plus—"

"Plus, it's not safe. Yes, I know." Harper groaned, slumping back in her chair, sprawling her gangly limbs over the sides. "I'm going to be the joke of the whole school. I'm never going to live this down."

"Yes, well, at least you'll live."

Harper shot Beatrice a glare from her dramatic flop. "I'd be fine if you'd just go with me."

"Maybe," Beatrice acquiesced. "Or maybe you'll disappear like that Simon boy did last year. Or the little girl the year before or Alice—"

"Beatrice, are you lecturing your sister?"

Their mother came into view, eyes tired and circled after another late night shift at the hospital where they both worked. Beatrice shook her head, watching her mother pour a cup of coffee, despite it being 6 PM.

"Mom, you know it's not safe," Beatrice pleaded, glaring at Harper, who cracked a single eyelid to watch the exchange. The thirteen-year-old's mouth spread in a smirk before Beatrice looked back at their mother, trying to shove away her panic. "Please, tell her it's not safe."

"You're right; it's not safe," Beatrice turned to Harper in triumph, "if she goes by herself."

"Mom—"

"Hey, don't 'Mom' me. You've been working so hard in your classes and at work. You could use a break. Trust me, the bedpans will still be there tomorrow."

It was Beatrice's turn to groan, her palms beginning to sweat. "The hospital is already short-handed; you'll be swamped in the ER tonight."

"Maybe, but my point stands. You're 20. You can overwork yourself for the rest of your life. Go have fun with your sister. I'll let your shift leader know. She'll understand; she's been saying you need a break." She put an arm around Beatrice. "Trust me, sweetheart. This time will be different."

They exchanged a knowing look, and she kissed the top of Beatrice's head, grabbed her car keys, and ruffled Harper's short red hair.

"But that doesn't mean you don't have to listen to your sister, Harper. Make sure to mind her words and don't get lost."

Both sisters nodded, and the door slammed behind her, gusts of winter wind coming in. Harper gave a whoop of excitement as Beatrice tried to calm down.

Mom was right-- nothing would happen. Beatrice was older now, and she could keep Harper and herself safe... everything would be fine, right?

*.*:*.*