Chapter 7 - The Amber Glow
The heat hit Julian like a physical blow, searing the hairs on his arms and forcing him to shield his face with his forearm. The velvet drapes framing the large bay window were already fully engulfed, roaring upward in a jagged sheet of crimson and gold that licked hungrily at the plaster ceiling.
"Elena! What have you done?" Julian yelled, coughing violently as the thick, gray smoke filled the kitchen and rolled across the open-plan ceiling toward the bedrooms.
Elena turned slowly, her dark hair catching the amber light of the flames. She didn't look panicked; she looked radiant, almost ethereal, standing amidst the destruction like a pagan priestess presiding over an ancient sacrifice. She dropped the rabbit onto the hardwood floor, where it lay facedown in the spreading pool of wax from a knocked-over candle.
"Houses need to be cleansed, Julian," Elena said, her voice carrying easily over the roar of the fire. "Clara’s ghosts were lingering in the woodwork, whispering in the corners. You can't start a new chapter while the old pages are still cluttering the floor."
"Where is Lily?" Julian roared, taking a desperate step forward, though the wall of heat made it nearly impossible to breathe. "Where is my daughter?"
Elena tilted her head, a strange, melancholic smile touching the corners of her lips. "She’s safe, Julian. Safer than she ever would have been with either of us. Children absorb the rot of their parents. We had to give her a chance to grow somewhere the soil isn't poisoned by secrets."
Julian lunged forward, ignoring the searing pain in his lungs, and grabbed Elena by the shoulders of her gold robe. The silky fabric was hot to the touch, radiating the intense heat of the surrounding fire. He shook her hard, his eyes wild with desperation.
"Tell me where she is, or I swear to God I will leave you here in this fire!"
Elena didn't struggle. She simply looked down at his hands gripping her robe, her dark eyes completely devoid of fear. Instead, a look of profound pity crossed her features.
"You always did think possession was the same thing as love, Julian," she whispered softly. "Clara thought the exact same thing. That’s why she built the red room. And that’s why you’ll never find the back staircase."
Before Julian could demand an answer, a deafening crash echoed from the upper hallway as the attic stairs collapsed inward, raining burning timbers down onto the landing right outside Lily's bedroom.
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Through the curtain of smoke and falling sparks, Julian saw a small white dress with a pink sash fluttering at the end of the hall, just before the smoke swallowed it entirely.
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