Helen frowned, then smelled the smoke wafting up through the stairwell. She had a fleeting moment to think, to realise she had a choice. She looked at the bitter, twisted human in front of her, slumped in a bean bag proudly smiling at her wickedness, blood snaking down her face, someone who had spent months torturing and manipulating her family, and she knew what she had to do.

“You know, Diana, I think you’ve brought this on yourself.”

Helen felt surprisingly calm. She stepped backwards towards the stairs, muscle memory knowing exactly how far each step was, and was down the stairs and lifting the ladder up, securing it with the bolt on the outside before Diana could struggle out of the suffocating bean bag.

The smoke was stronger now, acrid. It curled in front of her eyes and around her hair. Helen heard thuds above as Diana stomped and pulled on the attic trapdoor. It was locked from the outside, She was going nowhere. She ran past her bedroom door. The air was thicker here, pungent, and she could feel her eyes smarting.

Someone was calling her name.

It was Hugh. The further along she went, the thicker the smoke became. She rushed towards Hugh’s voice, pulling her shirt over her mouth, feeling the smoke steal her breath regardless. The heat was making her sweat. Hugh was standing at the foot of the stairs. She made it down and fell into him.

Flames licked up through the basement door and smoke obscured everything. The wallpaper around her was bubbling and curling, the house withering as it was engulfed. The old floors started to creak and groan, as if in pain.

The house was dying.

Hugh and Helen surged towards the kitchen and made it out onto the grass where Matt and Lydia were huddled together, their eyes wide, staring at the house.

“Where is Mills?” Helen screamed. “Where is she?”

She heard a loud but muffled thump behind her as something in the house exploded and flames started to lick at the ground floor curtains.

“I think she went in for Clive,” Matt said.

Helen screamed and ran for the house, but Hugh held her back. “No, I’ll go!”

Helen watched him run in. Her eyes were drawn to the attic window, to the face peering out. She looked away.

“Diana!” Lydia screamed and pointed. “Someone has to save her!”

Helen looked at Lydia, then said calmly, “Matt, stay here with Lydia. I’ll go and save her.” She ran back inside.

*