THE GIRL IN THE FLAME
955 Words
The gravel crunched under Janelle’s boots as she stepped out of her car for the second time that week. Dawn was still hours away, and the Black Hollow Vineyard was swallowed in fog. The air was colder this time—sharper. She carried a flashlight, her service weapon, and the audio file from Mila’s confession burned into her mind.
“Go to the vineyard. Check the root cellar. That’s where it all started.”
The main tasting room was locked. She didn’t bother knocking. Instead, she made her way around the building, toward the back where a narrow path led to the old vineyard blocks.
It wasn’t hard to find the cellar door. Moss-covered and nearly invisible from a distance, it was set low into a small hillside, half-buried beneath overgrown ivy. The rusted latch gave way with a loud snap as she forced it open.
Janelle aimed her flashlight into the dark. Steps led downward, carved from stone. The air smelled of earth and old wine. Slowly, she descended.
Each creak of the wood beneath her boots echoed like a scream.
At the bottom, the cellar opened into a single large chamber lined with oak barrels and crates. Her light passed over an old table, a few dusty wine bottles, and a small red scarf tied to a hook.
She froze.
It matched the scarf from the photo in Mila’s journal.
“Mila?” she called softly.
No answer.
She kept moving, scanning every inch. Then she saw it—a second door, smaller, made of reinforced metal.
Janelle reached for the handle. It was locked, but a broken keypad beside it told her it had once been secure. Someone had forced it open from the inside.
She took a breath and pushed.
The door creaked open.
---
Inside was something between a panic room and a prison. A mattress lay on the floor, a rusted sink in the corner. Papers were scattered everywhere. Candle stubs littered the ground. One wall was marked with tally lines—days, maybe weeks.
She stepped closer to the papers. Most were recipes, some handwritten notes, and several drawings of Cendre’s kitchen.
She picked up one note and read aloud:
“He watches from the other side of the flame. He thinks the heat hides his eyes.”
Chills ran through her.
Suddenly, something moved behind her. A breath—barely audible.
She spun, gun drawn.
A woman stood at the edge of the shadows, hair long and tangled, face half-covered in grime.
“Mila?”
The woman blinked, trembling.
“You’re real,” she whispered.
Janelle lowered her gun.
“My name is Detective Ward. I’m here to help you.”
Mila didn’t move.
“Please,” Janelle said. “I’ve been following your journal, your clues. You don’t have to run anymore.”
Slowly, Mila stepped forward into the beam of light. Her eyes—wide, alert, and haunted—locked on Janelle’s face.
“You weren’t followed?”
“No.”
Mila nodded. “Then we don’t have much time.”
---
They sat in the small room, side by side on the floor. Mila sipped water from a bottle Janelle had brought.
“They took everything,” Mila whispered. “My name. My work. My future.”
“Who?”
“Camden?”
Mila shook her head. “No. Not Camden. I thought it was him at first. But he’s a puppet.”
“Then who’s pulling the strings?”
Mila looked up, her voice sharp now.
“Martin Vale.”
Janelle blinked. “The critic? He’s dead.”
“I know. But he was the one who started this. He found out about my plans to leave Cendre, to open my own restaurant. He wanted in. Said he could make or break me.”
Janelle remembered Camden’s words: “He threatened to ruin me.”
Mila went on. “When I refused, he turned on me. Told me if I didn’t play along, he’d leak something ugly about Camden. He knew Camden had a record from years ago. Juvenile, but still damaging.”
“So you tried to protect him?”
“I tried to disappear. I didn’t want to destroy Camden. I just wanted to be free.”
Janelle took a long breath. “So Vale forced you underground. And someone else kept you hidden?”
Mila nodded. “I don’t know who arranged the room. But I think it was someone Vale paid. Someone who watched me from the other side of that door.”
“Could it have been Rafi?”
Mila hesitated. “Maybe. But he was kind… until he wasn’t. He started acting strange before I ran. Obsessive.”
Janelle stood. “We need to get you to safety. If someone knows you’re alive, you’re still in danger.”
Mila didn’t argue.
---
An hour later, Mila was hidden in a safehouse in the city under police protection. Janelle returned to the precinct with a fresh fire burning inside her.
She called Camden.
“Meet me. Now. Somewhere private.”
They chose an old café two blocks from the courthouse. Janelle arrived first. Camden entered moments later, his face pale.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
She sat across from him, leaned in.
“She’s alive.”
His breath caught. “Mila?”
Janelle nodded. “And she told me everything.”
He looked down, hands shaking.
“I didn’t know. God, I thought—”
“She was trying to protect you, Camden. But someone else was pulling the strings. Vale wasn’t working alone.”
“Then who?”
Janelle looked out the window, voice quiet.
“That’s what we’re going to find out next.”
- Writer
