Godshot. Chelsea Bieker

wanted to do the right thing. I looked to Cherry, who would surely call it, come to the stage to get me. Perhaps this was a test of her devotion to me as her granddaughter. All possibilities swam in my head other than what was suddenly happening, a flame licking my leg and the organza blooming with fire.

      The flame crawled up the dress bodice and I screamed. I threw myself on the ground and beat the fire with my hands. The Body cheered. Am I hurt? I wondered. My panic had numbed me. Then I was wet. Brown liquid came from above.