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.22Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡs1oaOvrlZp
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.22Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH7VjGCB6QO
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.22Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQ0zsVN4nxm
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.22Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡp0mBaAKGbx
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.22Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6CcEl5ZJ4d
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.22Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzULEorACQQ
Present day – nine years later22Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ41vkDPWh5S
Lena woke in the dark, gasping like she could still taste the smoke. The invitation lay on the nightstand. Thick card stock. Gold lettering.22Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmRw6AfootI
“St. Amelia’s Academy Reunion — 10 Years Later”22Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgPl4sGue6v
Location: The St. Amelia Memorial Inn22Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlpZhU4Rq9S
Formerly: St. Amelia’s Chapel & School for Girls22Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5h1E7If9Vt
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.22Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2sFXrNiG1n
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?22Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyh7iA0I1MM
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