"Stella, I know you must be jealous that John spent my birthday with me, but you can't just burn the house down in a fit of rage! If you keep being this reckless, John's only going to resent you more."
"He doesn't have to wait." John pointed his finger straight at the tip of my nose, disgust pooling in his eyes. "I already can't stand the sight of you."
"Stella, I'm telling you right now. However you destroyed this house, you're going to put it back exactly the way it was. If a single thing is off, you'll see what happens."
The fury churned inside my chest like a living thing.
But my father-in-law's screams from the night before kept echoing in my ears, pushing that rage back down every time it tried to rise.
Eight years. Terry had been good to me for eight years.
Back in the countryside, dying in a fire was considered an unnatural death. He'd been lying in there all night. If we didn't arrange his funeral soon, I was afraid his spirit wouldn't find peace.
So I stepped forward and grabbed John's sleeve.
"John, your father is in there! Come inside with me and look!"
I was terrified he'd cut me off again, so I forced every word out as fast as I could.
John froze for a second.