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confirmed his suspicions.
    A part of me (most of me actually) wanted to see Marshall’s lifeless body in a pool of blood.  And when the image flashed through my mind, it brightened my mood considerably.  I couldn’t deny it.  I’d be thrilled if the man were dead.  But I wasn’t delusional enough to think that it was normal for me to have such violent thoughts.  And then there was the priest’s voice blasting inside my head. 
    You are good—there is light inside of you.  You have a choice.
    I wasn’t sure if the reason I was about to lie was because of my own selfishness or the priest’s words, but I knew for certain that I didn’t want my brother thrown in jail for the rest of his life for murdering Marshall.  I couldn’t lose him too.  And Marshall wasn’t worth it. 
    “No.  Today was the first time.”
    He breathed out a sigh of relief, and then nodded with acceptance.  “Angus is a part of the family.  I don’t see any other way to get him—or you—out of this mess.”
    The quiet urgency to Timmy’s words snapped me to attention.  
    Then I remembered what else the priest had said.  You must trust Fate.  She is on your side.
     
    Whether or not the priest was insane was still up in the air, but I knew a few things for certain. Mom and Dad were dead, Marshall was a disgusting pig who wouldn’t give up until Angus was dead, and I had survived an explosion that should have cremated me.   
    I needed answers.  And since Father Palano had disappeared into thin air after the funeral, I didn’t have many other options.  Besides, I had a feeling that Aunt Ila might actually know what was going on with me. 
    Trust Fate. 
    With hardly a conscious effort, I said, “Okay.”
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Isaiah 6:2
    Above it stood seraphim; each one had six wings: with two he covered his face, with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew.
     
    Ember ~ Five
    T he wilderness beyond the driver’s side window was the perfect place to disappear.  I reached out and scratched Angus’ head.  He was safe now.  Marshall couldn’t find us here. A shard of optimism shot through me, but I didn’t exactly breathe out a sigh of relief just yet. 
    The five hour drive south had gone by in a blur.  I couldn’t even remember crossing the state line from Kentucky into Tennessee.  And unfortunately, covering hundreds of miles alone gives a person a lot of time to think.  The conversation with the priest and the image of Marshall clutching what was left of his hand had kept replaying over and over in my mind.   
    And the entire time, the fire was at the edge of my every thought.  As if it had a life of its own, it pushed in, filling my head with heat that should have made me sick.  Instead, the flames brought a quiet thrill that made me uneasy. 
    I had to keep reminding myself that the fire had killed my parents. 
    In an attempt to divert my attention, I tried to focus on the drastic change of scenery from the Ohio farmland I had just left, to the Tennessee wilderness that was going to be my home for the foreseeable future.     
    The woods here were thick and imposing.  The branches draped over the gravel roadway, shading the truck from the bright afternoon sun.  The shiny leaves of Rhododendron were everywhere and provided a natural barrier into the forest.  It was as if the trees and plants themselves were hiding secrets. 
    I was relieved when the road finally widened and the trees dropped away, leaving tall grass in their place. The breeze swirling in from the open windows afforded some relief from the humid, southern heat, and the forest smelled nice.   
    I breathed in the tangy pine needles and sighed deeply. Even the orange colored dirt had a scorched odor that was very different than the fertile dark earth I was used to back home.  Besides the smells that tantalized my senses, everything about the place was jagged and rugged, inhospitable.  It