Lily Anderson's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Lily Anderson had lived in her mother's old house for two weeks, and she still hadn't found a single trace of the woman who once slept in it. Her mother vanished from this town before Lily turned ten. Now Lily was fourteen, back in the same rooms, hunting for anything that explained why. So far she'd found dust, cold radiators, and questions. Then her dragon started acting strange. He was small, dog-sized, with copper scales and a flame that burned at the tip of his tail. Most mornings he curled by the window and slept. This morning he stood at the top of the cellar stairs and growled. When Lily reached for him, he pulled away and stared down into the dark. "What is it?" she asked. He wouldn't move. She followed his eyes but saw only steps. He pawed the floorboard by the wall, again and again, until his claws left scratches. His tail flame flared brighter. Whatever he sensed, she couldn't feel it. That scared her more than the growling. A knock came at the front door. The old woman from down the street stood on the porch. Margaret Hayes. She had known this house since before Lily was born, since her mother's time. Lily had passed her twice and only nodded. Now the woman held a covered dish and looked past Lily into the hall, as if checking whether the walls had changed. "Your pup's crying," Margaret said. "I heard him from the road." Lily let her in. The dragon shot to Margaret's feet, then bolted back to the loose floorboard. He clawed it and looked back at both of them. Margaret set the dish down slow. "He wants under there." Lily knelt and dug her fingers into the gap. The board lifted with a crack. Beneath it lay a shallow hollow lined with dust. Inside sat a locket, gold, split by a jagged crack across its face. The dragon went still the moment she touched it. His flame shrank to a soft glow. Lily pressed the catch. The locket stuck, then opened. One side held a tiny photo of a woman's face. The other side was empty, its little frame torn out. Margaret's hand went to her mouth. "That's her. Your mother. She wore that every day." Her voice dropped. "She was wearing it the night she left. I saw her at the gate." Lily held the cracked locket in both hands. Her mother had hidden it here, under the floor, before she vanished. And half of it was missing, ripped out on purpose. "Who took the other picture?" Lily asked. Margaret didn't answer. She was staring at the empty frame like she already knew, and didn't want to say.