Fable (An Unfortunate Fairy Tale #3)(4)

A siren call erupted into the night again, and Mina turned to stare at the fire in disbelief. She had heard that sound before when she was in the apartment, and it wasn’t the police sirens. She closed her eyes and took a calming breath before purposefully moving closer to the fire. She ducked under the police line and made her way to the alley, where there was less foot traffic. One of the windows had been broken out and smoke still poured out of it into the night sky, but she could see inside the first floor, into the Wongs’ restaurant kitchen.

Something was in there. It was large and covered in fire, but it hopped around, floating or flying from place to place. It was hard to distinguish because the color of flame around it was an intense white and gold. She had to continuously blink to even focus on the beast, for now she was certain that it was alive.

Her eyes hurt from staring at the gold flame, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away. There! She saw something—the tip of a flaming wing. Or maybe her mind was playing tricks, but she didn’t think so.

A scream ripped through the air, and intense white-gold flames erupted as the roof collapsed into the building. Mina ran away from the building to a safe distance as smoke, dust, and debris rained down from the sky. Something shot out of the building, hidden by the flames, and disappeared into the dark, rolling smoke of the night.

“Did you see that?” Mina shouted, pointing upward, turning to see if anyone else had noticed the apparition. The neighbors and tragedy-gawkers were startled when the roof collapsed, but it seemed as if no one else could see what she saw.

More tears slid silently down her cheek as she watched the fire devour her family’s life. Something plastic crunched under her shoe, and she gently lifted her foot to see a partially melted object. As she scooped it up, her heart cried out in despair when she recognized the red gingerbread man from Charlie’s board game.

It was still warm, scorched, and its base had melted into a small blob. Collapsing to the sidewalk, Mina stared at the plastic piece and felt her heart break in two. The shock had finally worn off, and all she could do was cry.





Chapter 3





The funeral was supposed to be small, consisting of the Wongs, a few of Charlie’s teachers, and his friend from up the street. The service was held at a small Methodist church that her family attended infrequently. But the media had made a tragic event story out of Charlie’s death and the fire. Signs, flowers, candles, and teddy bears were piled up in a memorial to Charlie, and the pews of the church were filled with strangers, brought together only by the tragedy of a small boy’s untimely death.

Mina was numb. Her mind barely functioned, and she had the hardest time completing the simplest tasks, like eating and getting dressed. It was too painful to breathe, and when she did remember to inhale, every breath was complete agony. Sara had always been the strong one—during her husband’s funeral, and even now as she held Mina’s hand during the eulogy. The pastor was saying very nice things about her brother—what kind of boy he was, who he would have been if he’d had a chance to grow up, and how he was now in the arms of the Lord. The pastor’s words brought some comfort, but they did little to erase the guilt that was slowly eating away at Mina. Negligence. That was the word a reporter had used when describing the fire, and how the older sister who was supposed to be babysitting was negligent in her duties.

She stared at the child-size coffin and felt her throat seize up with more guilt and sadness. She had cried all she could and was unable to cry anymore—her tears had dissipated, but the pain hadn’t. Someone, probably a choir member, sang a beautiful song about heaven and angels, and Sara was moved to tears. The pastor ended with a prayer. Finally, it was time. The moment she’d been dreading. The burial. Sara and Mina rode with the Wongs behind the hearse as they headed to Gray’s Lake Cemetery.

It wasn’t a beautiful plot, or a prime spot. It was actually close to the road and near the entrance, but it was all they could afford. Mina thought her brother deserved better, somewhere shaded and maybe with a view, but then again, it wasn’t like Charlie was actually in the coffin. His body was never recovered. The flames had burned so hot and so quickly. The firefighters said there wasn’t anything left to recover other than the sole of one of Charlie’s rain boots, which had been found under the couch. It was then that they had to face the truth—he had died in the fire.

The memories of that night were always close to the surface, like a teakettle about to boil over, ready to send her into a spiral of hurt and pain and loss. They had stayed up all through the night and watched in vain as all the possessions they owned went up in smoke. That same night, the Wongs were taken to the police station, where they filled out paperwork and gave their statements about what had transpired and who could have started the fire. There were some nasty accusations being thrown out about arson to collect insurance on the building, but Mina knew those accusations wouldn’t stick.

But that left Sara and Mina alone. Once the blaze was contained, rescue workers asked if they could notify family to come and get them, but that sent Sara Grime into a frenzy.

“No! There’s no one. We have no family,” Sara answered.

The young man looked saddened. “Well, then, ma’am, let me at least take you to a shelter. They have showers, and you can get a warm meal. I’m sure— ”

The slamming of a car door cut the young man off, and Sara looked up in surprise at the white Lexus. Sara’s boss, Terry, stepped out of the driver’s seat and walked sternly over to Sara.