91

W e sat there, watching Orchid Manor crumble into smoldering ash well into the morning light. As the sun rose over the property, casting the sky with rich colors of dusty purples and blues, the eerie cries of the Manor stopped altogether.

Beyond the torched Manor and its perfectly pruned bushes, there was nothing but debris.

The wildflower field silhouetted, as the rising sun touched the sky.

I felt it then. As the smoke dissipated, I felt the bubble pop, the barrier snapped out of place, and the sound of birds rushed in. Clay’s next breath was loud and a sob ripped from him in realization of what had just happened.

The Manor on Orchid Lane was dead.

I tipped my chin to the sky and filled my lungs with clean air as the smoke cleared from the clouds above. It was a relief that the Manor could no longer hurt anyone, but it was also mixed with the despair and overwhelming grief for Florence's sacrifice.

Looking down and over the rubble, my eyes caught a flash of vibrant green.

My heart raced as I searched for what I saw again .

I pushed to my feet, ignoring the light hiss from Koen, who had been resting at my side.

“What are you…” Clay asked, but I had already started running.

I skidded in the gravel, stumbling over my own feet. I braced myself on one hand and righted myself to keep moving toward the green. My boots slipped in the ashy gravel as I slammed to a stop in front of the pile of kindled structure that was nothing but chunks of wood and stone.

I stripped my shirt free and wrapped it around my face protecting myself from the smoke and started to work. I pushed the smoldering ash away with my bare hands, crying out as it burned the skin of my palms but never stopped.

Not until I could see it properly.

A cellar door was buried under the rubble. On the right side of the property, it sat nestled into the ground, shielded by vines. They twisted through the rotted wood and deep pink flowers that reminded me of the flush to Florence’s cheeks when she was angry, were inexplicably unmarred.

I rushed back to the truck, scooping my ax from the bed.

Clay begged me to stop and tell him what was happening, but I couldn’t find the words.

I moved back to the door as fast as my legs would carry me through the mess and started to hack at the vines with all my force. Over and over again, I smashed into them and, unlike the time before, they began to split and fall away. The healthy stems shriveled and died when they were disconnected from their roots.

My only focus was getting through the vines. I needed to know.

I needed to make sure she wasn’t down there .

I needed to make sure she had escaped this prison, one way or another.

The cellar door was finally released, and the stairs beneath were uncovered. It was tricky to descend, but with some clumsy maneuvering, I managed to get to the bottom. Light leaked through the ashy, burnt floorboards, and the sun trickled in through it, creating a smokey, sunkissed haze over the cellar floor.

I inhaled tightly through my shirt, and then pulled it down in shock, not caring about the smoke. Because there she was.

Relief overwhelmed me and tears stung the corners of my eyes.

“Florence?” I choked out.

Untouched by the fire, her copper hair was splayed across the dirt. Her dress was caked in mud, but the vines had created a cocoon around her, protecting her from the fire. I worked quickly, urging my body to work through the exhaustion that plagued my muscles as I brought the ax down into the remnants of the vines to free her.

I dropped to my knees, and started to use my hands to tear the vines away, not caring as the thorns bit into the palms of my hands and my forearms. I just needed to get her out. The air in my lungs was strangled by the knowledge that this could be for nothing as I lifted her lifeless body from the mud into my arms.

“You aren’t allowed to die,” I whispered. “We have things to do.”

Florence’s head fell limp in my arms and I couldn’t stop the sob that escaped my lips at the action. I cried out, climbing the stairs. It was harder to ascend them with her in my arms but, soon, the sunrise kissed her pale face and I knew we had reached the top.

“Clay!” I screamed his name .

He stared across the yard at me, frozen in shock, before stumbling through the gravel and running toward me.

“I think she might be…” I stopped looking down at her limp body. “But I don’t…the house is still…” I tripped over my thoughts. The words wouldn’t come out; fear gripped me and I couldn’t control the panic that overtook me. My clothing was too tight, my muscles were aching, and my head was swimming.

“Set her down!” Clay snapped, and I listened.

He had always been better in situations like this.

Like there had ever been a situation like this.

I could already see his brain taking over and pushing out everything else.

Logic would save Florence, if anything.

“She’s not breathing!” Clay announced, pressing his ear to her chest. “But I think–” He trailed off.

Koen limped toward us, nearly toppling over in the driveway as Clay began pumping on Florence’s chest wildly. “The barrier!” He yelled, “Did you feel it?” He asked, and Clay hushed him. “We can take her to the hospital!” He pleaded with us both.

Clay continued to give her CPR. Tiny huffs of exhaustion left his lips tangled with a string of curse words as tears dripped down his cheeks. His forearms strained against her chest, pumping as hard as he could to restart her heart.

“Work faster, Clay!” I barked, every muscle in my body tense.

“I’m doing the best I can,” he snapped back, blowing air through her pale pink lips. “I think it’s why the barrier broke,” he cried out as he went back to thumping on her chest. “She was the heart of the Manor. ”

“No heart,” I whispered.

“No Manor,” Koen’s voice cracked, but realization crossed his bruised and battered face.

I knelt beside her as Clay furiously beat on her chest to restart her heart.

“You listen to me,” I said loud enough for them to hear, but I was only speaking to Florence. “We've been doing this on our own for a long time. We never needed anyone to care for us because we cared for each other, but it’s different now. We need you to come back to us, Florence; we need you to be stubborn just one more time,” I pleaded with her.

Her limp body was so cold as I took her small hand in my palm and lowered my voice.

“ I need you, ” I said quietly, pressing my lips to her wrist. “I didn’t say it before but I need you too. So you aren’t allowed to leave, not yet. You have to come back and tell me how selfish I am.”

“Come on, Florence.” Clay pounded on her chest in a rhythm, filling her lungs with air. His desperation to bring her back from the dead was evident and relentless even as his arms shook with exhaustion.

I ground my teeth together and brushed her hair away from her face. “We worked too damn hard and sacrificed too much to free that big, stubborn heart of yours, so start fucking using it.”

“Wait.” Koen stumbled to his feet, screaming in pain as he surged back to the truck.

I rose from the ground, letting go of her hand, ready to take over for Clay, as I watched Koen drop to his knees to dig in the kit. “Wes!” He yelled, gripping his rib cage as he closed the distance, only pulling back when he was close enough and throwing something at me as hard as he could.

I stepped forward instinctively, taking the object in my hand.

“Clay.” I panicked, sliding back down to him and handing the stick to him.

An epi-pen.

He popped the cap with his teeth and inhaled, and I could see hesitation on his face. There was a chance that the adrenaline did nothing or harmed her further.

We only had one shot to get this right or lose her forever.

My head was screaming, my heart was pumping too fast, and as Koen came limping back to us, I nodded to Clay, who stared at me, gripped with fear.

“She’s dead already, Clay,” I told him. The idea of losing her twice flickered through me violently as I opened my mouth again.

He hovered above her chest, his own rising and falling too fast.

“Do it.”