Scorched

Actually… Lyria started, then trailed off. There is one thing…

“What is it? What can I do?”

Let Emberlyn know how sorry I am. And that I hope one day she can forgive me.

The mighty dragon looked down at Trinity with huge baleful eyes, overflowing with sorrow. Trin gave her a rueful smile, then reached out, wrapping her arms around the beast’s thick neck. “I’m sure she will,” she promised the dragon. “Someday you guys will be reunited again. Just like me and my mom.”

Lyria nodded, then nudged Trinity softly with her snout before unfurling her wings and lifting back into the sky. Trinity watched her go, feeling both wistful and hopeful. If Emmy and her mom could find peace, maybe there was hope for her as well. She turned to the cave.

“Here goes nothing.” And she dove in.

The light from outside dimmed and the walls started closing in as Trinity pushed deeper and deeper into the cave. Soon it was so tight she had to drop to her hands and knees and crawl her way through. A horrifying claustrophobia pressed at her chest, but still she pushed forward. She couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when she’d come so far. Instead, she concentrated on her mother’s spark, just up ahead, and crawled on. She was almost there.

After what seemed an eternity, the narrow passageway finally opened up into a clearing, allowing her to straighten to full height. Relieved, she pulled herself to her feet, sucking in a long, hard breath and looking around, her jaw dropping as she recognized where she was.

Home. Not her grandpa’s home but her mother’s home—the house they’d shared just before that fateful Christmas Eve. The same blue shutters. The same red mailbox. The same bushes sparkling with the same Christmas lights.

She was home. Really, truly home.

Unnerved, she forced herself up the steps and through the front door, deja vu hitting her hard and fast. When she pushed open the door, she half expected to stumble upon the nightmare all over again. A bloodied corpse. A shotgun by its side.

But that didn’t really happen, she reminded herself. That wasn’t Mom.

And so she dared to step over the threshold, trying to prepare herself for anything.

“Trinity! You’re home!”

She looked up, her eyes widening as none other than her mother herself stepped out from the kitchen, carrying a plate of freshly baked cookies. She was dressed in a red velvet dress, a checkered apron tied to her waist. Her hair was pulled up into her familiar ponytail and she even wore some makeup on her face. She looked fresh and healthy and happy. And not the least bit insane. As she walked over to her daughter, as if she’d seen her just a few hours before, she held out the plate.

“You must be starving!” she said. “Dinner will be here soon. In the meantime, a few cookies won’t ruin your appetite, right?”

Trinity slowly reached out, feeling half in a daze as she took a cookie from the plate and put it to her lips. It was sweet and buttery, just like a cookie should be, and she bit back a groan of delight.

“Good, right?” her mother asked.

“Amazing,” she concurred. But she wasn’t just talking about the baked goods.

After taking another bite, she looked around the room, trying to sort things through. It was all there, identical to how it had been—the same simple furnishings, the same cheery Christmas tree. The only difference was the presents underneath weren’t stained with blood as they had been the first time around. And there was no body sprawled out in the middle of the floor, no head blown to smithereens.

She turned to her mother. She had a million things she wanted to say. Instead, “I thought you were dead!” was all that came from her lips.

Her mother gave a shrill laugh. “Dead? Please. Can a dead woman dance like this?” She flittered around the room, using the plate of cookies as her dance partner. Trinity watched her, tears misting her eyes as she remembered all the dance parties they’d had over the years. Whirling around the room until they collapsed in dizzy glee.

“Oh, Mom,” she whispered. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Her mother stopped dancing, her eyes twinkling merrily. “If you’re buttering me up for Chinese food, you needn’t bother. I’ve already placed the order and your grandpa’s picking it up on his way over here. Extra duck sauce, just as you like it.” She clapped her hands in excitement, bouncing up and down. “Oh, Trinity, this is going to be the best Christmas ever!”

Just like she’d promised.

This was how it was supposed to be, Trinity realized suddenly, things finally sliding into place. This was the Christmas Eve I was supposed to have.

She sank down onto the couch, watching her mother rummage through the presents under the tree. She realized she’d never unwrapped a single one the first time around—she’d been too traumatized and they had eventually donated everything to Goodwill instead. Meaning she had no idea what her mother had picked out for her.

She was about to find out.

Mom crowed triumphantly as she found the present she’d been looking for. Lifting it from the pile, she set it on Trinity’s lap, her face shining as she looked from the gift to her daughter. “Here you go, honey,” she said. “You can open this one early. Just don’t tell your grandpa. He thinks everyone should wait till Christmas morning.”

Trin drew in a breath, bit her lower lip, then carefully undid the wrapping. She knew she should be hurrying—they were running out of time in the real world—but it was so nice to be here—to finally be allowed to live through that stolen day—she couldn’t help but drag out the moment a little longer. Pulling off the paper, she gasped as she found an ornate golden music box inside. Lifting the lid revealed a small princess, pirouetting to a simple tune.

She looked up. “Oh, Mom, it’s your music box!”

She’d wondered where the box had disappeared to when they’d come back to clean out the house. She never would have guessed her mom had wrapped it and put it under the tree. It must have gone to charity, along with the rest of the presents.

Her mother smiled, her eyes misting with tears. “Your father gave me this,” she told Trinity. “He told me when you were old enough that I should give it to you.”

Her father. Trinity turned to her mother, realizing this might be her one and only opportunity to know. “What happened to my father?” she asked in barely a whisper.

But before her mother could answer, the room started to shake. The walls began to buckle and a long crack ripped down the ceiling. Trinity grabbed on to her mother, her eyes darting around the room, terror gripping her like a vise.

“Mom, we have to go!” she cried. “We can’t be here anymore!” The dream world was collapsing. They didn’t have much time.

“But your grandpa’s coming over,” her mom protested. “We’re about to celebrate Christmas.”

Trinity shook her head. “Mom, this never happened. It’s all in your mind, holding you trapped here. It’s time to wake up so we can escape!”

Her mother’s face crumbled. “No,” she whispered. “I don’t want to go back.”

“Mom, you have to. You can’t stay here! You don’t know what they plan to do!”

Her mom broke away, her face white and her eyes terrified. “Do you think I don’t know?” she whispered hoarsely. “I’ve always known. Your father told me. And I was going to tell you. They took me away before I could!”

Trinity had no idea what her mother was talking about, but it didn’t matter now. The carefully constructed dream world was collapsing out from under them and if they didn’t leave now, they would be trapped here forever.

“Please, Mom!” she begged, tears running down her face. “Come with me!”

But her mother only reached out, swiping away Trin’s tears with careful fingers. She looked at her daughter