Tara held her nose, blood streaming between her fingers and dripping onto her white dress.
"You filthy, pathetic bitch!" she screamed and her eyes was wild with rage. "How dare you touch me!"
I stood over her and shook with rage. "You killed my cat!"
"A dirty little nobody like you dared to lay a hand on me?" Tara scrambled backward. "I've never been touched like this, not even by my own stepbrother!"
"Get out of my house," I growled, tears streaming down my face.
"Oh, you'll pay for this," Tara hissed as she struggled to her feet. "You'll regret ever crossing me."
She stormed out, leaving bloody handprints on the doorframe. I turned back to Jinx's lifeless body, gently wrapping her in a clean blanket as I carried her outside to the garden.
I dug a small grave below the tree where she used to watch birds. With every shovelful of dirt, I felt more alone. Jinx had been my only true companion during those empty years with Derek. Now even she was gone.
When I finished, I went to shower off the dirt and blood. The water had barely turned warm when I smelled it, smoke.
I threw on clothes and raced downstairs, following the scent until I burst through the front door. My heart stopped.
My design studio, the small building where I'd created every piece of clothing I'd ever sold was engulfed in fire. Five years of work, fabric, and designs burning before my eyes. My car sat in front, also consumed by fire, its metal frame glowing orange.
Tara stood on the lawn, a red gas can dangling from her fingers. Her nose had stopped bleeding but was swollen to twice its normal size.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" she called over the roar of the flames. "Fire purifies everything it touches."
I lunged toward her but she danced back. "Your precious designs, your pathetic attempts at creating something beautiful—all gone. Just like your dreams of leaving us."
"You psychotic bitch," I growled, stepping toward her.
"Oh, I almost forgot to mention," she continued, her voice syrupy sweet. "Your divorce papers arrived this morning. Such a shame they were delivered to your car. All that paperwork... up in flames."
The realization hit me hard. Without those papers, I'd have to wait another year before filing again.
"You can't keep me here," I shouted over the roar of the fire.
"Can't I?" Tara challenged. She pointed toward the burning car. "If you're so desperate, why don't you check? Maybe something survived."
Without thinking, I ran toward the car, pulling at the door handle. To my surprise, it opened and I leaned in searching through the smoke filled interior.
Suddenly, the door slammed behind me. I felt hands push me further in and spun around to see Tara's triumphant face through the window as she locked me in.
"What are you doing?" I screamed, pulling at the handle. "Let me out!"
The smoke began filling the car and it burned my lungs. I'd been tricked. I pounded on the windows and gasped for breath.
"Bye-bye, Hazel. Enjoy your cremation." She blew me a kiss.
"Tara!" a voice shouted from a distance. Derek was coming.
Through the haze, I watched as Tara deliberately fell to the ground, grabbing a sharp stone and dragging it across her arm. Fresh blood welled up from the cut.
"Derek! Help!" she cried out. "She pushed me! She tried to kill me and then set everything on fire!"
I pounded harder on the windows, my strength fading as the smoke filled my lungs. "Derek! Please!"
When Derek reached us, he didn't even glance at me trapped in the burning car. Instead, he knelt beside Tara, cradling her head.
"Who did this to your perfect face?" he asked, wiping blood from her face.
"She went crazy," Tara sobbed. "She hit me, then pushed me down. When I tried to stop her, she threatened to burn everything."
I slammed my palms against the glass. "Derek! I'm in here!"
He finally turned, his eyes meeting mine through the smoke-stained window.
"How dare you," he snarled. "Because you don't like her, you're trying to destroy everything?"
"She locked me in here!" I choked out between coughs.
Derek turned his back to me, helping Tara to her feet. "Let's get that cut treated. We can't have your beautiful face spoiled."
"What about her?" Tara asked. "The smoke... I know she's awful, but—"
"Let her burn." Derek's voice was flat. "The fire might actually make her fuckable. God knows nothing else has worked."
"But Derek—"
"The only thing that matters is you," he interrupted, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Let's get these wounds treated. I can't have anything spoiling your perfect face."
As they walked away, my vision darkened around the edges. I clawed uselessly at the locked doors, my strength fading with each breath.
The last thing I saw was Derek cradling Tara in his arms as they disappeared into the house, leaving me to die.
And then, darkness claimed me completely.
