Prologue

A knock cameâ€"three hesitant tapsâ€"Clara opened the door to find an adult man in his forties girl in a Junior Girl Scout uniform (usually reserved for a girl 9 or 10) clutching a cardboard carton. The green sash across his chest was slightly askew, its badges pinned unevenly, and his blonde ponytail had begun to unravel.

“Hi! I’m Morgan,” the man said, his voice rehearsed but brittle. “Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies?” Behind him, halfway down the walkway, stood a woman in a crisp pantsuit, arms folded. Her gaze was fixed on Morgan’s back, unwavering.

Clara’s smile faltered as she noticed the way Morgan’s fingers whitened around the cookie box. The girl’s eyes darted toward the woman before snapping back to Clara, wide and glassy. “They’re… they’re Thin Mints and Samoas,” Morgan added, his thumb nervously tracing the edge of the carton.

Something tightened in Clara’s chest. “How much?” she asked softly, already reaching for her wallet. As she counted out bills, she glanced again at the woman, who’d taken a step closer. Morgan’s shoulders hunched slightly, like he was bracing for a gust of wind.

“Thank you,” Morgan whispered when Clara handed over the money. The transaction complete, he turned to leave, but not before Clara caught the faintest whisper: “I’m sorry.” The woman’s hand settled on Morgan’s shoulder, guiding him down the steps with a grip that looked too firm.

Alone in her doorway, Clara stared at the cookies in her hands. The carton felt heavier than it should.

Looking between the boxes, Clara found a note. It said, "The Trait Swapper is real. I have to do everything that my daughter does. Be careful."

Clara had heard about the Trait Swapper, but didn't believe it.

---

The scent of garlic bread and old books hung in the air, a familiar perfume that had come to define the small apartment Leo and Clara shared. At twenty-six, Leo felt like he had been an adult for an eternity, but it was only in the last two years, since Clara had moved in, that he had truly felt settled. Tonight, however, a frantic energy buzzed just beneath his skin, making the comfortable silence feel charged with unspoken words.

Clara, who was twenty-two and possessed an infectious vibrancy that had captivated him from their first meeting, was curled on the end of their worn, grey sofa, scrolling through her phone. A soft throw blanket was draped over her legs, and the lamplight caught the gold flecks in her brown hair. She looked so perfectly at home, so content in their shared life, that a fresh wave of anxiety and adoration washed over Leo.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a little rougher than he intended.

She looked up, a sweet smile instantly gracing her lips. “Hey, you. You’ve been quiet tonight. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, perfect.” He tried to sound casual. “Actually, I was thinking… I was cleaning out the back of the closet the other day and I found something.”

This piqued her interest. She sat up, putting her phone aside. “Oh yeah? A forgotten treasure? Please tell me it’s not another one of your high school band t-shirts.”

He chuckled, the sound helping to loosen the knot in his stomach. “No, not this time. It’s… well, just come see.”

He led her to the small dining table, where a simple wooden box sat. It wasn’t old or ornate, just a plain pine box they had picked up at a craft store years ago and never found a use for. Clara looked at it, then back at him, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Okay…” she said slowly. “It’s a box.”

“It’s a story,” Leo corrected softly. He pulled out a chair for her and sat opposite, his hands trembling slightly as he rested them on the lid. He took a deep breath. “Our story.”

He lifted the lid. Inside, nestled on a bed of dark velvet cloth he’d hastily installed that afternoon, were a handful of items. He picked up the first one: a crumpled ticket stub from a superhero movie.

“Our first date,” he said, his voice now steady. “You spent half the movie explaining the comic book lore to me, and I didn’t mind at all. I was just happy to be next to you.”

Clara’s eyes softened, a knowing glimmer entering them. He continued, pulling out a small, flat key.

“The first key to my old apartment that I gave you. You used to use it to let yourself in and leave me leftovers from your culinary classes.”

Next came a Polaroid picture, slightly faded. It was of the two of them, paint-splattered and beaming, in the empty living room of this very apartment on the day they signed the lease. “The day we decided to build a home together.”

One by one, he presented the small monuments to their relationship: a seashell from their first beach trip, a cork from a bottle of cheap wine they’d shared on their first anniversary, a playbill from a show she had desperately wanted to see. With each item, Clara’s eyes grew brighter, a beautiful sheen of emotion welling in them. She had wanted this, dreamed of this, for so long. She’d seen friends get engaged and had felt that familiar pang of longing, but she never pushed, trusting Leo’s timing. And now, seeing the care and thought he had put into this, she knew the wait had been worth it.

Finally, only one thing remained in the box. It was a small, velvet ring box. Leo’s heart was hammering against his ribs so hard he was sure she could hear it. He took it out, his fingers fumbling as he opened it to reveal a simple, elegant diamond ring that sparkled under the warm dining room light.

He got down on one knee, his eyes locked on hers.

“Clara,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “Every one of my best memories has you in it. You took my life and filled it with color and laughter and so much love. Building this home with you has been the greatest adventure of my life, and… and I don’t want it to ever end. I want to build a whole life with you.” He swallowed hard. “Clara May Evans, will you marry me?”

Before he had even finished the question, she was nodding, tears finally spilling over and tracing shining paths down her cheeks.

“Yes!” she breathed, a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

She launched herself from her chair and into his arms, kneeling on the floor with him. Leo slid the ring onto her finger, and it was a perfect fit. They held each other for a long moment, lost in the overwhelming joy of the moment. He was kissing her face, her hands, her hair, and she was laughing through her tears, her hand held up to admire the ring that sealed their future.

After a dizzying half-hour of celebration---which involved a bottle of prosecco they’d been saving and an impromptu dance in the living room to their favorite song---Clara flopped onto the couch, her left hand still held aloft.

“We have to tell people!” she exclaimed. “My mom is going to lose her mind! And your dad!”

Leo grinned, grabbing his phone. “Let’s call my dad first. He’s probably just settling in to watch the game.”

He dialed the number and put the phone on speaker, placing it on the coffee table between them. It rang twice before a familiar, warm voice answered.

“Leo, my boy! What’s up?”

“Hey, Dad,” Leo said, exchanging an excited glance with Clara. “You got a minute? We’re, uh, we’re on speaker. Clara’s here too.”

“Hello, David!” Clara sang out.

“Clara! Good to hear your voice. Everything alright, kids? You sound… chipper.”

Leo took a deep breath. “Everything is more than alright, Dad. It’s perfect. I, uh… I asked Clara to marry me.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, just long enough for Leo to feel a flicker of nerves. Then, David’s voice boomed through the speaker, filled with pure, unadulterated delight.

“He finally did it! It’s about time, son! Congratulations! That’s the best news I’ve heard all year! Clara, welcome to the family, officially! Though you’ve been part of it for years, in my book.”

“Thank you, David! We’re so excited,” Clara said, her voice giddy.

“This is wonderful, just wonderful,” David continued. “Listen, a phone call isn’t good enough for this kind of news. This calls for a proper celebration. What are you two doing tomorrow night?”

Leo and Clara looked at each other, their expressions mirroring pure happiness. “Nothing, Dad. We’re free,” Leo said.

“Excellent. Then we’re all going out. My treat. We’ll go to La Lanterna, get some proper food and a good bottle of wine to toast your future. Does eight o’clock work for you?”

“That sounds perfect,” Clara agreed, her eyes sparkling. “It’s a date.”