The Burning of the Palace at Versailles (or, Butterfly) [REWRITING]

Chapter 25 - Sirens

"So she was hearing things," Melody said. As Puzzle had been talking, Melody had at some point sat down on the edge of the bed. She nervously pulled a loose string that was coming out of one of the blankets. The blanket was different than the ones Melody had. It was made of white yarn and appeared to be homemade.

"Evidently," Puzzle said.

They were silent for a moment. The shouts were quiet now, and it was making Melody more nervous than the screams had.

"Why do you care about her like that?" Melody said. "I mean, you were freaking out."

"I was not freaking out," Puzzle said, sounding annoyed.

"You were kinda freaking out.

"I was not!"

"Really?" Melody said, fighting a grin. "Because I've seen freaking out, and it looked a lot like that."

Finally, Puzzle grinned. "Shut up!" She grabbed one of her pillows and hit Melody with it. Melody laughed and A faint but all-too-familiar noise made both Puzzle and Melody tense up. Puzzle sat up straight, the smile gone. There was the distant siren of an emergency vehicle.

Melody took a deep breath and tried to bring a gentle smile back.

"That's the first time I've heard a siren since coming here," she said. She tried to make her voice sound light-hearted, but it came out shaky and nervous even to her own ears. The siren couldn't be for Versailles. Of course not. There were other houses and a few small businesses in the area. Melody imagined the possibilities— an old woman had fallen down and broken her hip, maybe a child had accidentally called and it was all just an honest mistake— Melody had reported on more than a few of those in her time as a beat reporter. It was one of those things that no one wanted to write about, so it went to the younger reporters. Maybe the siren was because of a building or house burning.

Whatever it was, it was not for Versailles. It couldn't be. None of them had done anything wrong. They would be fine, right?

But instead of fading into the distance, the siren got louder and louder. They were coming closer. Melody's insides felt like they were twisting inside her.

Unwanted memories flashed before her eyes. The sirens. The baby, crying in the crib. She remembered seeing Thomas and the new girl, a ring on her finger. A shotgun wedding that Melody wasn't invited to, but she watched all the videos and looked at all the pictures as soon as they were posted online. She cried the day of the engagement, the day of the pregnancy announcement, the day the baby was born, the day of the wedding. Every day she cried and ruined her mascara and lied when people asked her what was wrong, saying that it was just some allergies. When he got engaged, it made sense for her to cry. They had only been broken up for five months, and he was already down on one knee for another girl? That was suspicious, and it made sense for Melody to be upset. But breakups are supposed to have a half-life, and all things considered, Thomas and Melody weren't together for that long. After the engagement, it shouldn't have stung as much as it did.

Maybe that's why people were so willing to believe she had kidnapped that baby. Only a crazy person would still be that broken up about their ex so long after they had ended things, no matter how badly he had ended it. And Melody was crazy, there was no hiding that. So of course it was possible she would take the baby, to hurt both him and the rebound girl.

But Melody never wanted to hurt the other girl. Her problem was with Thomas. She had loved him once, after all. She knew exactly how easily he could worm his way into one's heart. And of course she didn't blame the baby at all. Of course the baby was evidence of their much-too-fast union, but it was just a baby. She could almost love it, the way it looked curiously into her eyes as she held it. It clearly had its father's face, but it had its mother's eyes. It was a beautiful little thing.