The pair of you turn the room upside-down. You open every book, Tracy empties every drawer in the room, throws everything in Beverly's storage chest all over the floor, and you even lift up the bed so she can roll back the rug and check for loose floorboards. Nothing. Not even a trace of something - well, except for what looks like a prop plastic wand that you get a funny smell off of, but somehow you doubt there's even a trace of magic in it. Of course, before this morning, you doubted there was a trace of magic anywhere in the world, but you find you've recently been convinced otherwise.
"Oh no, no-no-no..." Tracy groans, holding her head in her hands. "We've checked every inch of the room and there's nothing here, Tim! I don't want to...I-I mean I can't..."
"Shh, Trace, it's gonna be alright," you say quietly, edging closer to her.
"How?!" she snaps at you, but immediately winces. "I don't wanna be your sister, and I definitely don't want to be fifteen again..."
You sigh and place a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it gently. "Look, I don't know what happened, you don't know what happened. But it doesn't happen out of thin air. Someone or something did it, and that means we can un-do it, right?"
Tracy relaxes, but her shoulders slump and she looks off to the side, clearly unconvinced. "...I don't wanna argue about this."
Before you can say anything more to try and comfort her, the doorbell rings. And from Beverly's window, you can just barely make out who it is - it's Tracy's body! You gesture for her to come over and silently point down. Tracy glares down at the body thief, knuckles whitening against the window-sill.
"How dare she...!" she growls, visibly angrier than you've ever seen her. Not that you can't understand why, of course.