~ ROSELLE ~
Fire. Fire. Fire. Fire.
The word tears through my throat so violently, as the fire won't stop and keeps expanding from the lantern. I had expected it to be like the usual time, just the way it always caught when I lit it every night before Father would pull me onto his lap and tell me stories until my eyes grew heavy with sleep.
Instead, this time, it's expanding through the curtains, climbing the walls, and I'm standing in the middle of Father's study watching it happen, and my legs won't move and my voice is...
Dad.
I'm screaming. I can hear myself screaming, my voice as loud as a quake, bouncing off walls that are already beginning to blacken at the edges. I reach for him — he's at his desk, slumped forward, and when he lifts his head, his eyes are wrong, bloodshot as
