14. The Flames
Fourteen
The Flames
M ila was thrilled, so thrilled that her heart raced. It was her first big girl duty. Her father had told her he would be very proud of her, and she wanted to make him proud. She wanted to show him she could be just like Rafael. Rafael was a big boy, and now, she would be a big girl too. He was counting, his voice muffled through the walls. They were playing hide and seek: “One… two…”
Her tiny fingers gripped the spray bottle tightly in her pocket. She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone yet. She had to do this for her father. He had told her this would make the mansion “smell nice” and “feel cozy” for when Rafael came back downstairs. She wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but he had said it was important, and she didn’t want to let him down.
Rafael’s voice echoed faintly, “Three… four…”
She moved quietly through the hallway, taking out the bottle, unscrewing the cap with careful hands. The liquid inside looked like water, but it smelled funny. Her father had shown her how to spray it once before, just a little squirt.
She knelt in front of the basement door, the one only the men could ever enter. They always told her and Rafael that if they ever played around in there, it would explode. They must have been kidding, she thought innocently. Her father had told her the door was special. It was locked, and that was fine. Because he’d also said to slide the spray under the door and just spray it a little.
Mila, her hand trembling slightly, aimed the bottle at the crack under the door and sprayed. It didn’t seem like much, but her father had said it would do something special.
“Just like he said,” she whispered, satisfied. “It’ll be nice.”
But as she stood up, the smell became almost too strong. She frowned, but shrugged it off. It was fine. She had done exactly what her father asked.
She ran outside, just like her father had told her to do, her chest swelling with pride. Now, she just had to wait for the ‘special thing’ that would happen.
She heard Rafael’s voice coming from the back garden. She could hear his singing and the thump of his footsteps. But this time, she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at the mansion, waiting for what her father had promised her.
And then, it happened.
At first, there was a small crackle. Her eyes widened, and her mouth went dry as smoke began to curl up from behind the house. Something was wrong. The smoke thickened, turning from a little puff into a cloud. She could hear people yelling, but she didn’t understand. Why were they screaming?
She heard Rafael calling her name, his voice shaky and full of panic. “Mila! Mila!”
But the smoke kept coming, thick and choking. She coughed, her lungs searing, and then the heat hit her. It burned—too hot, too sudden. The mansion wasn’t supposed to be on fire.
Tears stung her eyes as she stumbled backward, trying to make sense of what had gone wrong. Her chest tightened, panic squeezing at her throat. This wasn’t what she had imagined at all.
She had only sprayed a little, just like her father said.
But why were people crying? Why were the flames so big?
Everything was chaos.