Chapter 6

Conrad had been summoned by a frantic call from Kassidy. He arrived expecting to comfort her after another one of my pathetic outbursts.

He saw the red mark on Kassidy's cheek, the genuine fear in her eyes, and the roaring fire consuming the old house.

It was all the proof he needed.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a protective embrace.

His gaze fell on me, and it was filled with a chilling, murderous hatred.

"You venomous snake," he hissed. "You're not just cruel, you're insane. Burning down a house? Are you a monster?"

I couldn't hear his words. All I could see was the fire, eating away at my memories, my past, the last piece of my mother I had left.

My childhood swing set in the backyard, the window of my old bedroom, everything was being devoured by the flames.

"The fire!" I shrieked, my voice raw with desperation. "Somebody, put out the fire!"

I scrambled forward, trying to beat at the flames with my bare hands, a completely futile and insane gesture.

The fire caught the hem of my pants. Pain shot up my leg.

Conrad lunged forward and grabbed my arm, yanking me back. "Are you crazy? Do you have a death wish?"

He wasn't trying to save me. He was trying to control the scene.

"Don't you dare try to pin this on Kassidy," he snarled, his grip like a vise on my arm.

I stared into the flames, my mind a vortex of grief and despair. There was only one thought, one desperate need: I had to save it.

With a surge of adrenaline, I ripped my arm from his grasp.

"Let go of me!" I screamed. "Don't touch me!"

The force of my pull sent him stumbling back, and it sent me careening forward. I lost my balance and my hands flew out to catch myself, landing directly on the burning hot wood of the front door.

A scream of unimaginable agony tore from my lungs. The smell of my own burning flesh filled the air.

For a split second, I saw a flicker of panic in Conrad's eyes. He took a half-step toward me.

But then Kassidy, the master puppeteer, played her final card.

"Conrad," she whimpered, clutching her head. "I feel so dizzy... I think I'm going to faint again."

She put her hand to her throat. "The smoke... it's making it hard to breathe. Please, Conrad, she set the fire... just leave her."

My hands were on fire. The pain was beyond anything I had ever imagined. I collapsed to the ground, cradling my charred, blistering hands to my chest. I was trapped in a world of pure agony.

Conrad hesitated for only a moment. He looked from my writhing form on the ground to Kassidy's pale, pleading face.

He made his choice.

"You brought this on yourself," he said to me, his voice as cold and dead as ash.

He turned his back on me, scooped Kassidy into his arms, and carried her to his car. He drove away, leaving me to burn.

The fire roared, a monstrous, living thing. Neighbors had gathered, their faces painted with horror by the flickering orange light.

"Get away from there, miss! It's going to collapse!" someone shouted. They'd already called the fire department.

My tears had been boiled away by the heat. I just knelt there, numb, watching my world turn to cinders.

"Help... please..." I whispered to the crowd, but no one dared to come closer.

A roof tile crashed to the ground just inches from my head, showering me with sparks.

I watched it all burn. My home. My past. My hope.

Then, a car screeched to a halt. Helene leaped out, her face a mask of horror.

She saw me, a motionless, broken doll amidst the chaos.

"Abby!" she screamed, running to my side. "Oh my god, Abby! Are you hurt?"

She tried to pull me to my feet. That's when she saw my hands.

"Abby..." Her voice broke.

The sight of her face, the pure, unconditional love and terror in her eyes, finally broke through my shock. A dam inside me burst.

Tears, hot and endless, poured down my face.

"It's all gone, Helene," I sobbed, the sound inhuman. "Everything is gone. I have nothing left."

"We're leaving," she said, her voice shaking but firm. "I'm booking the tickets now. We're getting you out of here."

She looked at my hands, her eyes widening in renewed horror. "We have to get you to a hospital first. My God, your hands..."

I barely registered her words. The physical pain was a distant echo compared to the gaping wound in my soul.

"It doesn't hurt," I whispered, my voice detached. "Nothing hurts anymore. I just want to leave."