All Chapters of What Survived The Burn: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Liora’s POVSunlight cuts through the blinds, casting golden bars of light across the bedroom floor. Dust particles swirl in the beams like tiny stars, weightless and slow. It’s the first thing I see when I wake up, and for a moment, I’m still—not groggy, just aware. Too aware. I can make out each particle suspended in air, each thread in the weave of my blanket. It’s like the world is turned up a notch, sharp and gleaming.Downstairs, I hear Mom humming in the kitchen. The soft thud of a mixing spoon against a bowl follows—she’s making pancakes. She always makes pancakes on my birthday. It’s a ritual, a tradition wrapped in cinnamon and vanilla.Today is my seventeenth birthday.But for me, it’s just another day. Routines keep me steady, and I don’t like to break them. There’s comfort in the predictable. So I rise, stretch, and head to my closet, reaching for the same green top I always wear when I want to feel like myself. It brings out the color in my eyes. I pair it with ripped sk

Loria’s POVThe stairs creak beneath our feet like they're bracing for what’s coming—every step a countdown. Andy walks just behind me, silent for once, and I can feel the tension rolling off him like steam. I don’t think either of us is ready for this conversation, but it’s coming whether we want it to or not. The kind of thing you can’t outrun, even with four legs.Mom’s waiting at the bottom of the stairs, holding two mugs. The faint scent of chamomile clings to the rising steam. She doesn’t say anything—just offers me a cup with a tremble in her hand and eyes that look like they’ve already cried too much. I take it and follow her into the living room.Dad is pacing. He’s never been the pacing type. He’s always been a sit-down-with-a-beer kind of guy. Steady. Predictable. Right now, he looks like a grenade waiting for someone to pull the pin.I sit on the edge of the couch, gripping the mug too tight. Andy lowers beside me, hands clasped in his lap, trying not to draw attention to

Loria’s POVI watched Andy’s car disappear down the street until the shimmer of his taillights blinked out behind the bend. The soft growl of his engine faded into a low hum and then into silence. For a moment, I stood rooted on the sidewalk in front of the school, my hands tucked deep into the pockets of my oversized hoodie, the strap of my backpack cutting diagonally across my chest. My body buzzed with nerves and cold resolve, the early morning air cool against my cheeks.He was gone. And I was still here.“You’re doing the right thing,” Zerina whispered softly in my mind.The voice was a comfort—not quite a sound, but a presence, like breath moving just behind my ear.“This will free her. And free us.”I nodded almost imperceptibly and turned on my heel. I started walking.The distance from the school to my house wasn’t far, but every footstep felt longer than it should’ve. Each familiar landmark along the way—the old mailbox with peeling green paint, the cracked sidewalk that buc

Loria’s POVThe cold crept in before the light did.I stirred under the tarp, the nylon crinkling softly as I shifted. My joints ached. My muscles burned from the night’s run, and my palms were scraped raw from the fall near the hollow. But it wasn’t the bruises or the chill that woke me.It was the memory.The girl. Her face. The blood. The ropes.I sat up slowly, teeth clenched against a groan. My fingers went instinctively to my duffle, checking—still zipped, still there. Zerina was quiet inside me, but not absent. Just watchful.The mountain air was damp and sharp, smelling of pine sap and ash. Somewhere nearby, water trickled over stone. A breeze shifted the tarp, rattling the branches overhead.I pulled my knees to my chest and stared at the thin seam of morning light pushing through the trees. My heart thudded with the aftershock of adrenaline, long spent but not forgotten.“We left her,” I whispered, my voice dry.Zerina stirred.“We survived,” she replied. Not cold, but stead

Loria’s POVThe trees are denser now, a tangled wall of green about a mile outside of town. The last sliver of sunlight has faded, leaving the world around me drenched in soft violet and deep blue. It's quiet—so quiet that I can hear the chirp of insects and the slow pulse of my own breathing.I shrug the duffle bag off my shoulder and drop it gently against a thick tree root, then sit beside it, stretching my legs out in front of me. My calves ache. My hips are tight. Every step I took since leaving town added weight to the ache growing in my body. I unzip the bag and fish out the Icy Hot.“You sure you want to shift?” Zerina asks softly in my head. Her concern feels like a brush of fur across my thoughts.“I need to,” I answer aloud. “We’re not resting again until tomorrow night. And you’re right—you're faster.”I stand under the cover of the trees, alone but not alone, and strip down slowly, folding each article of clothing and setting it gently on the duffle. The night air brushes