Chapter 2 - The Map of Ashes
The door creaked open, just a sliver. Lily’s eyes, red-rimmed and hollow, peered out from the darkness. When she saw it was me, she didn't retreat. She simply opened the door wider and stepped back into the shadows of her room.
I sat on the edge of her bed, careful to keep my movements slow and deliberate. She reached under her mattress and pulled out a worn, crumpled piece of notebook paper. This was the drawing she had shown me while Meredith was away, but now, in the dim light of her bedside lamp, I saw the details I had missed in my initial shock.
It wasn't just our house. There were three distinct structures sketched at the bottom of the page. Each one was surrounded by jagged, dark lines meant to be flames.
"She keeps these in a box," Lily whispered, her voice trembling. "She says if I don't listen, she’ll do it again. She says people love a tragedy, but they hate a difficult child. If the house burns, everyone will blame me because I’m ‘the problem.’"
I took the paper, my fingers brushing her cold hand. The logic was twisted, a masterpiece of gaslighting designed to isolate a seven-year-old. Meredith wasn't just scaring her; she was creating a permanent hostage.
"Did she do these, Lily?" I asked, keeping my voice low.
May you like
"She told me we moved because of accidents," Lily said. "But she was always smiling when we packed. She’d say, 'New city, new start, new secrets.' I’m the secret, Logan."
I looked at the drawings again. The structural sketches were remarkably accurate for a child. Or perhaps, they weren't drawings at all—perhaps they were memories.
