Chapter 117
Chapter 117
A spark of surprised delight lit up Willow’s eyes. ‘It must be from Mother or Joseph,‘ she thought, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over her.
A wave of gratitude washed over her. “They know I’m afraid of the dark, so they sent me a lamp, Willow thought.
With trembling hands, Willow fumbled desperately in the darkness and finally managed to pull out the tinderbox, shakily bringing it close to the oil lamp.
As soon as the faint flame touched the wick, there was a sudden pop.
In an instant, the entire oil bowl burst into flames. The fire, like a ravenous beast, roared to life and shot nearly two feet into the air.
Fiery orange tongues of flame danced wildly, casting flickering light into every shadowy corner of the memorial hall and illuminating Willow’s face, contorted with sheer terror.
A searing pain shot through Willow’s hand. Panic–stricken, she let out a piercing scream and violently flung the oil lamp away like it was burning her flesh.
Every drop of lamp oil inside splattered onto the tablets of the ancestors of the Monson family.
Slick with lamp oil, they were instantly engulfed in roaring flames.
The fire raged through the cramped memorial hall like a stampeding herd, completely out of control.
In the blink of an eye, the surrounding drapes ignited. Within mere breaths, the entire memorial hall was consumed by a roaring inferno.
Tongues of flame licked hungrily at the Monson family’s ancestral portraits lining the walls, giving off a frantic crackling.
Willow was stunned by the sudden scene before her, her mind going completely blank.
It wasn’t until the billowing smoke sent her into a violent coughing fit that she finally snapped out of her daze. Jolted awake, she scrambled toward the door, stumbling and crawling in terrified desperation.
At that moment, panicked shouts from the servants outside erupted as they screamed, “Fire! The memorial hall is on fire p>
Just as everyone rushed over with buckets, they saw Willow, her face blackened with soot, scrambling out of the memorial
hall as thick smoke billowed behind her, panic written all over her face.
Her hair was singed and charred, her dress smeared with soot and ash, she was the very picture of utter disarray.
Willow looked up and saw Henry, his eyes bulging wide in shock, and Eloise with a look of horror.
His eyes bulged as if about to pop out of their sockets, his face twisted in utter disbelief and rage.
Beside him, Eloise also stood frozen in horror, her mouth agape as if about to speak, but the sudden turn of events left her utterly speechless, all color draining from her face until she was deathly pale.
Lined up behind them were Nicolas and his two brothers, their faces pale with terror.
Nicolas frowned deeply, his eyes full of panic and unease as he stared hard at Willow, as if unable to believe she could have
caused all this.
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memorial hall and Willow’s soot –streaked, disheveled appearance.
There also stood Athena, silent and still behind the crowd.
Athena fixed Willow with a steady, unblinking gaze, her eyes utterly devoid of surprise or panic.
Athena’s gaze was like watching a play she’d long anticipated, her eyes glinting with mockery as if laughing at Willow’s foolishness.
An icy dread shot up Willow’s spine, and a tidal wave of terror overwhelmed her.
An invisible hand seemed to crush her heart, each beat a desperate struggle.
Her lips parted, desperate to explain, but her throat seized up, not a single word would come. She stood rooted to the spot, pinned under the crowd’s piercing stares, each gaze stabbing into her like a needle.
At that moment, Willow was nothing but a sinner in everyone’s eyes.
Athena curled her lips into a cold smirk. ‘A sinner should look the part,‘ she thought.
She had promised Willow would pay.
Destroying the memorial hall was no less than grinding the ancestors‘ bones to dust and scattering their ashes, a true act of ultimate desecration.
‘Let’s see how Willow wriggles out of the punishment she so richly deserves, Athena thought coldly.
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Sara Lili
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.