The fire started in the chapel. It wasn’t supposed to. It was supposed to start in the kitchen, where the old gas line hissed like a sleeping snake, ready to be roused. But fires, like secrets, don’t always follow instructions. Lena Blackwell didn’t scream when she saw the first flame lick across the velvet curtain behind the altar. She didn’t move either. Her candle had gone out minutes before, and in the dark, the flicker of fire looked almost holy.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡO4gcSQtZbH
They were supposed to be praying. Eighteen girls, seated in two straight rows of pews like good little lambs, eyes closed, hands folded. Behind them stood Sister Eliza with her rosary clenched and her mouth stitched into a grim smile. The Friday Penitence Ritual. Another quiet punishment for sins too petty to name.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgMLYsq1O3V
Lena hadn’t blinked since she saw the flame. It took exactly twenty-one seconds for the first girl to scream. Camilla. Always the first at everything; first to get her period, first to kiss a boy, first to notice when blood started dripping from the ceiling like tears. She screamed, stood, and that’s when panic bloomed like wildfire.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYOIpeIJXVJ
Literally. The fire leapt from curtain to pew like it had been waiting. Someone had soaked the wood. Not with holy water. The smoke hit next; thick, black, choking. It didn’t drift; it punched. Girls tripped over each other in a frenzy, veils flying, coughs turning to shrieks. The door was jammed. Padlocked from the outside. The fire alarms didn’t go off. Lena knew they wouldn’t.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9zLhz2tVUO
Sister Eliza had the key. Lena turned to look at her. The nun wasn’t trying to open the door. She wasn’t praying either. She was smiling. Not with joy. Not with fear. With satisfaction. Like she was watching something she had waited years for. Something she had planned. Lena watched four girls claw at the windows, their hands bloodied from broken glass. Someone was on fire; Lena couldn’t tell who. The body writhed near the altar, shrieking. Skin hissed. Eyes boiled. The air sizzled like it had been cursed. And then… quiet.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjImuBSgAQN
The kind of silence that isn’t peaceful. The kind that is earned. Sister Eliza turned to Lena and walked through the smoke like a ghost. Her eyes, wild with reflected fire, met Lena’s, and she said something Lena would never forget; even if she tried. “A vow made in fire can never be broken. Say nothing, or burn with the rest.” And Lena nodded. That was the last sound she ever made.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5s6BZrrtT7
Present day – nine years later21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa1w5vhEhYD
Lena woke in the dark, gasping like she could still taste the smoke. The invitation lay on the nightstand. Thick card stock. Gold lettering.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUxJxg0wU3q
“St. Amelia’s Academy Reunion — 10 Years Later”21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1VB32hEXcC
Location: The St. Amelia Memorial Inn21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwR60ySvDQw
Formerly: St. Amelia’s Chapel & School for Girls21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmlkNDl3XSp
Someone had the audacity to turn the place into a luxury inn. Someone with no soul. Or maybe the same one who had started the fire. Lena stared at the bottom of the invitation. There was no return address. No contact info. Just a single line written in red ink that wasn’t printed.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtf8dPGOoem
Handwritten. She ran her fingers over it, heart starting to hammer. “We remember who you are, Lena. Don’t forget what you promised.” She pressed her fingers to her throat. Silent for nine years. But what if silence wasn’t enough anymore? What if someone wanted her dead instead? And worse; What if she deserved it?21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuCKTrVtFhe
21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGAknhVNcgF
