CHAPTER 1: AFTER THE NIGHT OF FIRE
The first person to lock Aria's door... was her biological father.
The door slammed,so loud it felt like even the wind heard it. Secondlater, the smell of smoke wafted through the door, at first only faintly acrid, then gradually becoming stronger.
"Dad?" Aria lifted her head, her bare feet getting off the bed. "Dad?"
There was no answer. Only the sound of his footsteps fading away on the wooden hallway, heavy, determined, the feeling that she would soften when she heard that call.
Aria was only ten years old.
She didn't know that downstairs, the fire had been doused with gasoline to make it burn faster. She didn't know that the small house, where her mother usled to hang beautiful, cheap flower vases by the window, was about to turn into a pile of black ash. She only knew that... her father had never done this at night with the lock on her door.
The smell of smoke was thick, Aria rushed to the door, turned the knob.
It didn't move.
"Dad!" She slammed her hand on the wood, it didn't hurt much, just a cold feeling crawling up her spine. "Dadd, the door's stuck! Help me. Mom! Mom!"
From the other side, there was still silence. So quiet that Aria could hear her heart pounding.
There was a gust of wind, and the crackling of the fire, accompanied by the sound of something falling to the ground and breaking.
Aria pressed her ear to the crack in the door. Through the smoke that crept in, she heard her mother's voice from far away, choking: "Please... don't do this... Aria, she's still young..."
The voice of a strange man answered.
"A deal is a deal. That girl will replace the remaining debt. If you want to live, hand her over."
Aria didn't undertand what they were saying. She only heard two words, like knives cutting into her ears: "hand her over."
She quickly shouted louder: "Mom! Mom, I'm here!"
Perhaps it was because the smoke rose so quickly that her eyes were stinging, but aftter that call…
No one answered.
---
Smoke started to curl up from under the bed. Aria immediately coughed, her feet retreated, her heart pounding. The only window in the room was tightly closed, the winter in this suburb was so cold that the glass froze.
She tried to rush to the door to open the latch. The old iron door latch made Aria use all her strength, her hands trembling, trying to pull it open.
"Don't get stuck here…" she muttered to herself, her small shoulders hunched. "No, no…o"
Boom!!
A small explosion sounded from downstairs. The whole house shook. The gas cylinders inthe kitchen had exploded as the flames spread. Aria didn't need to look to know. The temperature in the room rosee rapidly, as if someone had just poured boiling water on the ceiling.
This time, her mother's screams rang out clearly, piercing through the sound of the fire: "Aria! Run!!!"
The little girl stood there, frozen. Where to run, when the door was locked, and the windows couldn't be opened?? She watched helplessly as the whole house became a crematorium.
Aria heard her father's voice, his hoarse voice set amidst the chaotic screams in the distance.
"Take this money… I'll give her the girl… but you promise me"
The strange voice laughed.
"With the current situation, you have no right to make conditions, Walton."
Walton. The last name Aria had been born with now sounded like a curse.
The fire spread quickly to her door before reaching the window.
Aria saw orange spots of light creeping through the crack under the door. Thick black smoke suddenly poured in. She coughed, her eyes stung, tears and snot continuously flowing, her legs unsteady, she staggered step by step.
I'm going to die here.
Simple thoughts. Those childhood fairy tales her mother used to tell her. In her mother's stories, fate sent rescuers to orphan girls.
In reality, Aria met only betrayal,her father watching, her mother pleading.
He had locked the door and locked her in.
Aria backed away towards the wall, her back pressed against the peeling paint.
"I will spend my whole life protecting this little princess." repeated so many times that it became a lullaby.
In her current situation, those things were no different than killing herself.
"Daddy…" Her voice broke, as if someone was squeezing her throat. "Why…"
"Why… how could you…"
No one responded to that sob.
Amidst the crackling of rotting wood, the sound of breaking glass and the howling wind through the roof, another sound rang out in Aria's ears:
the sound of a lighter being lit.
It was all over from the moment the fire started.
She didn't know when she passed out. Until she opened her eyes.
Aria was no longer in that raging room. She was now lying on the cold snow, her back stuck to the dirty wood and ashes. The snow was falling white in the sky, and the ashes of the fire were flying up.
The house behind her was still burning fiercely. The roof had collapsed in one corner, and the giant wooden beams fell down as if to suppress the memories of the past.
Aria tried to sit up, her throat coughing from the smoke. Her whole body ached, her throat was burning, her hair and clothes were all messed up,
Next to her was the shadow of a man, tall, thin, wearing a black cloak that reached down to his knees. He bent down, his voice coming out:
"Are you still alive, brat?"
Aria looked up. She could only see his chin and lips, the upper part of his face was hidden by the shadow of the large hood, but she could clearly see what lay on his black leather glove, a snake-shaped ring winding around his finger, the snake's eyes were set with a green diamond.
As if animated, she felt the snake's eyes staring at her.
In the distance, near a black car, her father stood, hugging his trembling body, his hands clutching his woolen hat, his eyes averted. An old suitcase was placed at his feet, slightly open, revealing a jumble of money.
"You did the right thing." The man turned the ring on his hand, his voice ringing clearly over the fire. "Not every child has this much value."
Value? Aria felt like someone had just shoved a block of ice into her chest.
"Father…" she called, her voice hoarse. "Is this true…"
He glanced her, very quickly, then his eyes turned away again, his shoulders shaking.
"Are we done yet?" he asked, his voice suppressed. "My wife… is still in there. You said you would… would help…"
The man chuckled.
"The fire did its job. You should thank it." He leaned down slightly near Aria, his holstered hand grabbing her skinny wrist and pulling her up. "This girl, from now on, is no longer your child. She is only the property of the Serpent Cartel."
The word slid through Aria's ears like a hot needle, etching itself into her memory.
Her father started, took a step forward, then stopped. He looked at her again, longr, like someone looking at something once precious, now not brave enough to touch.
Her father, startled, took a step forward, then stopped. He looked at her again, longer, like someone looking at something once precious, now not brave enough to touch.
"Aria…" He stammered. "Father… I had no choice…"
That was all he said.
Not "sorry", nor "I love you". Just an excuse for his cruelty.
In that moment, Aria understood. Father was not forced. He had chosen this.
He chose money. He chose to save himself from the men with snake rings. He chose to let the house burn down, her mother trapped inside, let her ten year old daughter be dragged away like a commodity all just to… live a few more years.
A sudden pain seized Aria's chest. She wanted to scream, to run towards him, to rush into the burning house to pull her dear mother out. But the man with the snake ring's hand tightened, his cold voice rang out again.
"Don't make thing harder," he said, his head tilted slightly to the side. "Daughter, if your mother dies a second time, you pro
bably don't want to see it, do you?"
A second time? Aria bit her lip until it bled.
The door slammed shut behind her.
Her childhood was over.