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The traditional punishment for murdering a witch is immediate execution by fire, no matter who it is on either end. The witch could’ve had it coming, and the killer could’ve been in a blind rage and grief. It doesn’t matter. Once you’ve murdered a witch, you’re done for, gone in seconds, up in flames by a single match lit by the Supreme before being forgotten in a blaze of screams. Cordelia shirked that responsibility. She skipped out on burning Kyle at the stake for throttling Madison to death in fury after she refused to resurrect Zoe. She had planned to execute him; had the gasoline and the match, ready to schedule him for his death. But something flipped inside her at the last minute. Perhaps it was Zoe’s big doe eyes after she realized what had to be done, or maybe the fact that Cordelia was never Madison’s biggest fan to begin with. Truth be told, Cordelia knew Madison had her murder coming. The young woman just never learned, and she paid the full price in the end. Saddening, yes, but well-deserved is a better way to put it. She didn’t inherently hate Madison; she simply didn’t care for the attitude and rolling eyes, and it was hard to love her as much as the others. Kyle should have died a year ago. But Cordelia spared his life after a night’s contemplation. Zoe seemed indifferent about the choice; said she was surprised yet happy that she wouldn’t lose Kyle. After all, he did it for her, and that’s quite admirable. Then again, rules are rules, and he should have been executed, as per witches’ tradition for centuries. Zoe is loyal to the coven and Salem, too. The boy is not irrationally angry. He’s not a zombie anymore. In fact, Zoe rehabilitated him so well that he’s now a functioning member of society. He’s “coven guard dog”, as he likes to title himself, and also helps around the house to keep it clean and in order. He serves Cordelia and brings luggage to bedrooms when a new witch arrives, and sometimes tidies the house when time is wasting, all while trying to give the most love to Zoe he can manage. Zoe is cleaning out her bedroom where sleeps with Kyle. Madison’s former bed has remained empty since her death. Even the sheets have not been changed since. It’s time for something fresh, so Zoe makes a mental note to take the linens off the stale bed and wash them later. The room has a crawlspace, and only Zoe has the key to it. It’s been locked for ages now, and whatever may be in there is probably rotting away. There’s no telling what may be hiding there now, so she removes the key from its place beneath the drawer of her nightstand and unlocks the tiny door. Using her phone as a flashlight, she crawls her way in. It’s dark and dank and musty. The timeworn air is thick and dusty, and the floor is covered with cobwebs. Zoe coughs, wafting at the air to remove the smell of decay, and crawls further, until she feels something hit her knee. She shines her phone on it and finds a tattered shoebox. Frowning, she picks it up. It’s withered around the edges and bent on top. She doesn’t remember stashing anything here. Looking ahead into the abyss with the light, she finds another door at the very end. It must be Cordelia’s crawlspace, too, and she must have put the box here for whatever reason. Zoe feels she should leave it alone and trust that Cordelia has her secrets and skeletons. But she can’t. The shoebox is heavy, but not as heavy as shoes would be. It’s too narrow for Zoe to fully turn, so she tucks the box under her arm and crawls her way out of the crawlspace backwards. She’s all dirty with soot and cobwebs when she emerges, so she brushes herself off as she brings the box to her bed and sits down. She does feel a bit guilty, but curiosity will always win. Instead of returning the box to the area she found it, she pops the lid off with a cloud of dust, revealing photos and souvenirs of some kind. The first thing Zoe picks up is an “M” keychain attached to a set of car keys. She recognizes the logo; Madison’s car, which has been sitting dead in the driveway for awhile. Quite ironic. Sighing, Zoe sets them down and continues to dig, until she finds photos of Madison. Some are of her smiling on the red carpet, some are personals where she’s rolling her eyes at whoever is taking the picture, and there’s one at the bottom of her and Zoe. Suddenly, a faint memory becomes clear. Zoe remembers this. They were sitting at the breakfast table, eating muffins and talking about the Seven Wonders. It was actually all in good fun, for once. Queenie caught them getting along, and snapped a photo on her phone and had it printed—much to Madison’s distaste. It hurts Zoe to look at it. She doesn’t know why Cordelia has it or if she was even the person who snuck the box in there, but it hurts to remember that she and Madison did get along when she helped the former star let her guard down around her. Despite everything that happened in the downfall, Zoe misses Madison in a sickening way. Beneath the photos is a necklace with a bright gold “M” charm hanging on the chain. Zoe runs her thumb along the smooth letter, remembering how it hung off Madison’s neck just right where the light could hit it so it would shimmer. When Madison would sneer at her, Zoe would be so distracted by it that she didn’t notice the nasty look on her face. After fumbling through a few more pictures of the deceased girl, Zoe feels a single tear slip down her cheek, and she hastily wipes it away before slamming the lid back onto the box. An unexpected sensation spreads through her body: grief. She never truly grieved for Madison. No one did, and maybe that’s the only reason Kyle was never burned at the stake. If no one cared, it’s as if it didn’t happen. Suddenly, Zoe cares. She leaves the picture of herself and Madison at the table out for herself, because she can’t bear to put it away like it’s nonexistent. She can’t do what Cordelia—or whoever—did. She can’t sweep Madison under the rug like that. Cordelia calls the witches down for dinner, which Kyle prepared, and Zoe locks the shoebox back in the crawlspace before sliding the remaining picture in her pillowcase. She hopes Kyle never finds it. +++ Zoe is brave enough to sleep in the same bed as Kyle with a photo of Madison tucked beneath their heads. It pokes her every now and then, reminding her that it’s still there and no one has plucked it from her grasp. She ensures it doesn’t poke Kyle; what a disaster that would be. She doesn’t get a wink of sleep that night. When the sun rises, Kyle has turned over so much that he’s practically smothering her. She’s so tiny and he’s burly and it’s so difficult to sleep comfortably, but somehow, they manage. The girl’s eyes are crusted over with lack of sleep and leftover tears. She’s mad at herself for snooping through the crawlspace. When you go digging long enough, you’re bound to find some dirt, and that’s a lesson she’s learned very quickly. The phantom coolness of the necklace grazes her fingers, and she sighs softly, waiting for her alarm to go off. Kyle is abnormally strong. That’s the reason it was so easy for him to snap Madison’s little neck. She was so small, he is the complete opposite, and not even magic could have saved her. Guilt consumes Zoe. If she hadn’t been stupid and had listened to Cordelia, she wouldn’t have died and Madison wouldn’t have thrown her fit that had gotten her killed. This is her fault. Kyle was just an effect of the situation. Regardless, he killed Madison and was spared death, only because Cordelia must feel they’re better off without her. Zoe contemplates all morality for a few minutes before the alarm on her phone blares and causes Kyle to stir. He grips her tighter as he settles down once she’s turned it off, and she winces. He can be unintentionally rough sometimes, but that’s her fault, too. She put him together for her own desires and didn’t think of the consequences. Forcing her way out of his grasp, Zoe gets out of bed and prepares for the day, starting with a hot shower that burns her skin. Once she’s dry and her hair is combed out, she slips on a clean outfit—casual, as it’s Sunday and she has no classes to teach—and brushes her teeth. She’s exhausted, but attempting to go back to sleep would be futile. At one point, as she’s spitting out the foamy toothpaste, she expects Madison to come in and push her aside to take a look in the mirror and gawk in vanity, but her heart falters when she never shows up. Zoe washes her face to wake herself up some more, and then returns to her room, remembering the mental note she made yesterday. With a sigh, she strips Madison’s bed of the sheets and covers, throwing them on the floor, leaving a perfectly white mattress. Kyle sits up in bed and yawns, eyes searching for Zoe. He smiles at her. “Good morning,” he says. “Morning,” she mutters back, beginning to remove the pillowcase. “What’s wrong with you this morning?” Kyle asks. “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” “Nothing. Really,” Zoe says, attempting to fake a smile. It’s so hard to look at him now. Knowing what he did in cold blood to a witch, Zoe flinches. She thought nothing of it at first, but after discovering Madison’s lost treasures, she’s beginning to see things in a different light. And she doesn’t like it. “I don’t believe you,” Kyle responds. “What’s wrong? You look tired.” Zoe fumbles with the pillowcase, toying with it between her finger and thumb. By some sort of magic, it has the faint smell of expensive perfume and soap lingering on it. Her heart grows heavier. “Why did you kill Madison?” The question slips out like bile would. It burns and is sour all at once. Confused, Kyle shrugs his shoulders. It angers Zoe. He did something he knew was wrong and continues to brush it off. He does this sometimes, and Zoe can’t tell if he truly doesn’t know or he’s playing stupid to evade punishment. “Kyle? You remember killing her, right?” Zoe asks. He nods. “Why?” “She let you die. I thought it was pretty obvious. It was heat of the moment.” “Cordelia never told you the punishment for killing a witch?” Zoe hums as she folds the pillowcase in half. “Execution by fire. Burned at the stake by the Supreme. I was afraid she’d do that to you, but she didn’t.” Kyle seems surprised by this. He doesn’t know much about witchcraft or the witches’ traditions and ceremonies. He’s only a guard dog and butler for the coven. He doesn’t attend any classes nor does he read any of the thousand books stored throughout the house. To know that he was almost burned at the stake disturbs him. However, he’s alive, and he’s grateful. “Why didn’t Cordelia execute me?” Kyle asks. Zoe shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe she felt sorry for me.” It has nothing to do with Kyle’s life and everything to do with Zoe’s emotions. She’s always been Cordelia’s favorite; it only made sense for Cordelia to spare the boy’s life to avoid causing her emotional turmoil. To Cordelia, Kyle is easily replaceable. Zoe isn’t. “Do you. . .think she could change her mind?” Kyle questions, looking at his feet. Zoe gathers the sheets into her arms, and sighs. “I don’t know.” +++ Madison weighs Zoe’s mind down all day. She’s unable to do her chores or read a book without an image of blonde hair and sharp eyes running through her brain. The question remains. Why didn’t Cordelia burn Kyle at the stake? She was barely reigning as Supreme and already shirked that responsibility once. Will she always let the murder of a witch go? Or only certain witches, the ones she doesn’t like? The ones she dreams of killing off but is unable to? Zoe is one half of the council. One of the responsibilities of council is aiding the Supreme in her decision to execute. Execution is set by rules and tradition; anyone—witch or not—who ends a witch’s life or causes fatal harm is immediately sentenced to the stake. The Supreme is the one to do the honors of lighting the fire, but the council is usually always present. If Kyle burns, Zoe will watch. Zoe is conflicted. She loves Kyle—though a little less after she found Madison’s body—and she’s also devoted to the coven and Salem’s customs. Part of the rubric is to execute, even if the person ablaze is her own boyfriend. What he did to Madison was unfair and not his place, and there should have been some sort of consequence, but he got away. What if he harms another witch? He’s quite calm in comparison to when he killed his mother. Zoe would never forgive Cordelia for allowing that to happen again. She’s aware she’s not dwelling on this for custom. She’s dwelling for Madison. For Madison’s entire life, the girl was treated poorly, onscreen and off. She was molded into the person she was by default; a child Hollywood star growing up with everything she ever wanted and spiraling into drugs and alcohol in her teens. It was her destiny, and how can Zoe fault her? Madison wasn’t obligated to bring Zoe back. It would have been morally right, but it was hardly something to kill her for. “What are you thinking about?” Zoe jumps out of her skin as Cordelia approaches her. The girl pushes her book to the side and greets the Supreme with a smile. “Nothing,” Zoe clears her throat. “Just. . .things.” Cordelia sits at the other end of the couch. They’re in the library of the house, where Zoe spends most of her free time. It’s always quiet and solitary. “What things?” Cordelia ponders. “I don’t know. . .” A stiff silence remains. Zoe doesn’t want to tell her. She can’t fathom telling Cordelia that Madison’s been on her mind all night and day. No matter how hard she tries, she can’t rid her head of the face and eyes that belong to Madison Montgomery. “I was going to do some early spring cleaning,” Zoe says, quickly changing the subject. “Clean out the closet, donate some old clothes. I think it’s time for a change.” “A little early, but I think you’re right. I could use a change around here,” Cordelia laughs. Her face becomes a bit serious as it fades away. “Now, what’s really bothering you?” Zoe scratches at her palm, shrugging a shoulder. “Why didn’t you burn Kyle after he killed Madison?” Taken aback, Cordelia blinks twice, wondering if the younger witch is joking or not. Zoe’s face is hard, though, and Cordelia knows she’s asking in earnest. “It was not a simple decision. I knew you loved him, and I couldn’t watch you grieve for him. Besides, Madison did something immoral. She had it coming. Maybe that’s a little callous coming from the Supreme, but it is true. Madison died tragically, but it was a long time coming. You are so happy with Kyle and I saw no reason to rob you of that,” Cordelia explains. “Why are you asking?” “You eluded your responsibility as Supreme to protect your coven,” Zoe says. “He may be my boyfriend and I may love him, but the coven comes before anything, and you put it at risk by allowing someone who murdered a witch to live. Do you remember that I came back here when I had the perfect chance to escape into the sunset with Kyle? I was in Florida! But I chose magic over love. I trust Kyle not to hurt me, but I can’t say the same about the others. He’s not violent, but he can get angry when he thinks someone’s hurt me, and I don’t want to see what happens when he does.” A gradient of emotions flashes across Cordelia’s face. First she’s confused, then angry, then solemn. Nothing makes sense to her right now. She’s uncertain of what Zoe is implying by telling her this. “Are you saying that you want me to burn your boyfriend at the stake?” Cordelia asks. “I’m saying you need to be consistent in your duties. If a stranger were to walk in here and slit my throat, would you let them go? If a nice witch stabbed another witch to death because she was being mean, would you allow her to live? You don’t get to pick and choose who you serve justice for,” Zoe says, a coat of tears glistening in her eyes. Not once has Cordelia thought of this. She genuinely was trying to protect Zoe from feeling the ache of losing her only love. Moreover, Madison wasn’t worth the hassle of dragging the gallon of gasoline to the stake. “This is about Madison, isn’t it?” Cordelia questions. “Look, Zoe, I don’t commend Kyle killing her. I did not want her to die. But he did it out of pure anger and his love for you. I cannot fault him for it. I let him live for a reason. I don’t think that him killing Madison in an emotionally-charged state constituted me burning him at the stake. It’s tragic that we lost a witch. I didn’t want to add to that by burning the boy to death.” “Bullshit,” Zoe spits. “It wasn’t about him or my feelings. It never was. You were happy Madison died, and so you didn’t execute him, because you felt he did you a favor. If it had been me, Kyle would be dead right now. If he killed Queenie or any of the others, you would have set him on fire without thinking twice. Is that true?” Cordelia looks away, almost in shame. A zing of remorse slathers across her face before she composes her expression and brushes out her floral dress, looking at Zoe again. “Every loss of a witch is tragic. Madison is no different. You think I wanted her to die? That’s not true. But what happened, happened, and what am I supposed to do?” Cordelia asks. Zoe stands up and walks to the door, brushing past Cordelia on the way. Hand on the doorknob, she looks pointedly at her Supreme. “You know exactly what you should have done.” She leaves and makes sure the door slams behind her, leaving Cordelia stunned in a room abuzz with guilt and self-pity. +++ Upstairs, Zoe breaks things. She throws vases and picture frames at the wall, leaving an array of shards and dust on the floor. Her room is destroyed in minutes, and she sinks onto Madison’s bed when the anger-fueled high wears off. Tears slip over her eyelids and down her rosy cheeks. The bed is still unmade. She’s laying on the bare mattress, curled in a ball with her honey-brown hair covering her face. One arm supports her head and the other dangles loosely off the edge of the bed. She begins to trace the wooden frame with her fingers, up and down, to soothe herself and prevent herself from ruining what she hasn’t already. A few glides up, Zoe feels something poke her hand. It’s thin and crinkles at her gentle touch. Confused, she sits up and wipes her face with her palms to clear her vision, before she looks underneath the mattress. A folded piece of paper protrudes from between the mattress and box spring. She carefully removes it and opens it. The handwriting rings a bell in Zoe’s head. It’s sloppy cursive, and some letters are in print. Madison knew how to only write her name perfectly in cursive, not much else. Her cursive was always askew and hard to read. That’s why Zoe has to squint and tilt the paper to understand it. Zoe,I’m leaving. I know someone will resurrect you eventually, but it can’t be me. I’m too afraid for you to bring you back. This coven is not safe for any of us. Don’t be fooled. I have been through some shit in my life and it’s hard for me to trust, but I trust you. You were there for me when I was raped. You helped me through a lot of things. Even if you don’t know it. I’m too much of a coward to admit that I grew to like you. Maybe even love. I’m not supposed to love. It’s too scary for me, so I pretended to hate you, and I’m sorry. I ruined everything and now I have to leave. I’m a selfish and self-centered asshole who deserves nothing. I feel sick thinking I’m leaving you for dead, but you will be brought back. Someday you’ll read this note and hopefully understand. I won’t beg you to forgive me. I don’t deserve it. But I’ll miss you. Always. Sincerely, Madison Zoe can’t see anymore. Tears fall harder as the paper trembles in her hands. She tucks the note to her chest and resumes her spot on the bed. She imagines Madison sitting at their shared desk writing this note. She imagines her attempting to write gracefully and failing miserably. She imagines everything about Madison until she’s cried herself to sleep. +++ The next morning brings surprises and celebration. It’s Queenie’s birthday and she planned to go out with Zoe for a girl’s night out tonight, just the two of them. It’s not often that the council unites to have fun away from the coven. After she’s cleaned the hurricane in her room and made sure Kyle is still alive, Zoe dresses for the day in her classic black and white—a tribute to her coven—attire, complete with her signature hat. She feels heavier and lighter all at once. On one hand, it’s Queenie’s birthday and she wants to have fun, but on the other, she still has the note, which is hidden away from Kyle, and it’s weighing her down. She zips up her boots and fixes her hair under her hat in a vain attempt to deflect the dark circles beneath her eyes. She grabs Queenie’s gift from her nightstand and goes downstairs, hoping no one notices her sluggish state. Kyle disappeared after she told him good morning, and she finds him with Cordelia and Queenie at the breakfast table. Zoe’s blood goes cold as she notices how close in proximity Cordelia to to Kyle, but she shakes it off and wraps Queenie in a big hug. “Happy birthday,” she says, squeezing the voodoo witch. “Thank you.” Queenie pats Zoe’s head, as that’s all she can reach in her vice. Zoe pulls away. “So, 22. How does it feel?” “I have a phone bill that’s sky high to pay by today, and it’s that time of the month. How do you think I feel?” Queenie jokes, giving a friendly grin towards the younger witch. “Still up for tonight?” Zoe asks. “You know it.” Kyle seems perplexed, and only then does Zoe recall that she never told him about going out tonight. He has a pitiful look on his face, like he had something planned for her, and she shrugs the slightest bit at him in apology. “Oh, here,” Zoe says as she hands the small box to Queenie, brushing off the puppy dog look Kyle is giving her. “Zoe, you didn’t have to.” “You are my best friend. I did.” Queenie opens the neatly-wrapped box and grins at the silver locket with a “Q” engraved on the front. She grabs Zoe in a tight embrace, catching the girl off guard. Regardless, Zoe laughs and hugs her back. During this small festivity, Cordelia remains silent. The tension radiating off her is enough to bind someone to a pole. Or a stake. Which is all she’s been contemplating since last night. But Zoe doesn’t have to know that, yet. “Alright, ladies,” Cordelia gently scolds. “Breakfast is over. The girls will be downstairs for their first class soon. Zoe, I want to see you after your final class.” The smile and glee have completely vanished from Zoe’s demeanor. She fears what comes next. “For?” she questions. “You will find out when your class is finished. Now, let’s go. Kyle, I need you to sweep the foyer, please.” Cordelia says as she quickly stands up and takes her coffee mug, disappearing into the other room. Queenie and Zoe dismiss themselves from the kitchen, the former going upstairs to try her new necklace on, and the latter going to their formal room where her first class is held. Zoe’s head begins to pound as the witches pour in from upstairs and greet her in turn. In a muddled state, she hopes Madison shows up on time, but when the clock strikes nine and she’s not arrived, Zoe gives up all hope and opens her spell book to begin her lesson. +++ Four in the afternoon rolls around too quick. The witches close their books for the last time and distribute across the house in many directions, laughing and giggling to themselves. Zoe places her book on the shelf and clears the table, as they’ll need it for dinner. She takes all the time in the world to do this, stalling before she has to meet Cordelia. Eventually, she can clean no more and there’s no more time to waste, so she reluctantly makes her way to Cordelia’s office, which is closed. She hesitates before she knocks. There’s a “come in” that welcomes her, but she doesn’t feel all that welcomed by it. “You wanted to see me,” Zoe says as she closes the heavy door behind herself. “I did.” Cordelia is sitting at her desk, an array of papers and files before her. She removes her reading glasses and motions towards one of the chairs in front of her desk. “Have a seat.” Zoe slips into the chair, rigid and uptight. She sits stiffly and begins to fidget. Her entire body breaks out into a sweat, and she begins to panic. Cordelia never calls her into her office for a private meeting. It’s always with Queenie, as a council meeting. This is personal and she does not like it. “I thought about what you told me yesterday,” Cordelia begins. Silence hangs in the air. “You did?” Zoe questions, wiping her clammy hands on her thighs. Cordelia nods in response. “And?” Sighing, Delia glances out the window at the setting sun. She should prepare dinner soon, and she uses it as an excuse to rip Zoe’s band-aid off so it hopefully won’t hurt all that much. The Supreme looks into her little witch’s eyes, and she feels guilty for many reasons, but the biggest one comes with the band-aid. “While I didn’t appreciate your attitude, I considered your stance. And I think you were right,” Cordelia says. “I did not want Madison to die, but it was a relief when she did. I’m a terrible Supreme for that, and I know it. But she was going to endanger us all if she got away. Fate took care of my cards for me.” “So that’s it?” Zoe asks. Pieces of anxiety float away. “You called me in here and scared me to death to tell me that you were wrong?” Zoe feels as if she can breathe again. She’s not in trouble. In fact, it’s the opposite. That’s what it seems like, anyway. In addition, she got the privilege to hear Delia admit she is wrong for what she felt towards the deceased witch. “So can I go?” Zoe is already wedging herself out of the chair. But Cordelia shakes her head. “No, Zoe. I called you in here to tell you that Kyle’s execution is set one week from today. Three in the afternoon. Bring the gasoline.” +++ The week passed on in a blur. Kyle hung his head in sorrow when Cordelia broke the news to him. He was in shock. It wasn’t until he got upstairs that he broke down and pulled Zoe close, fully aware that he didn’t have much time left with her. She patted his head and ran her fingers through his curls as she silently cried. He couldn’t argue with Cordelia. He probably would have, if he had not known about customary execution prior to his sentencing, but Zoe’s telling him prepared him of what was to come should Cordelia have a change of heart. What he doesn’t know is that Zoe inadvertently caused that change of heart. She killed Madison, and now she can’t help but feel that she’s killing her own boyfriend, who’s otherwise completely innocent. His puppy dog eyes are pure and his touch is almost always gentle on her skin. But Zoe values her coven and will sacrifice what she has to in order to keep the customs and protect the witches who can’t fight back. Zoe attempts to take her mind off it. She went out with Queenie after Cordelia gave her the news. She smiled and laughed the whole night through, but she sobbed into Madison’s mattress when she crawled home until her petite body gave out and she fell into a restless slumber. She slept with Kyle every night after that. Today is Kyle’s execution. Cordelia’s request to bring the gasoline was literal, and Zoe finds herself dragging two gallons of it to the stake. Her eyes find Kyle’s, and she rushes towards him once more after she’s set the cans down, bringing him closer to her body and kissing him. “I’m so sorry,” she whimpers. “This is my fault.” “No. Don’t say that, Zoe,” Kyle whispers against her lips. “I did something bad and this is what happens. You said so yourself. I trust and love you, okay? Never forget that.” The bitter air around them stings Zoe’s flesh as she runs her hands through his shaggy hair again. She’s cold all over but somehow hot with fury and remorse. Remembering why she did this does nothing to help. “I love you, too.” Cordelia forces Zoe to resume her place beside her and Queenie. They’re dressed in traditional black, standing before the stake as the winter sun beats down on them. They have men to do the dirty work of tying the boy to the stake with rope. They do so very well and very tight, and Zoe wants to tell them not to hurt Kyle too much, but she keeps her mouth shut. Matchbook in hand, Cordelia takes a single step closer. “Kyle Spencer, you are hereby sentenced to death by fire for the murder of Madison Montgomery,” she says. “Any last words?” Soft brown eyes flicker towards Zoe, and Kyle says, “I love you. Always.” The men douse him in gasoline. The smell is pungent and burns Zoe’s nose. Her eyes begin to water as Kyle tries to resist the chemical by instinct. He thrashes, probably from the odor and the fear, and then he stops after the gasoline cans are dry. Cordelia lights a single match and tosses it onto the trail of gasoline at Kyle’s feet. The blaze ignites and spreads higher and higher until it’s engulfed half of Kyle’s body. He’s screaming and howling in agony as the flames devour him whole. Finally, his face is nothing but fire and smoke, completely smothered by it. The howling ceases all at once, leaving nothing but crackling and wind in its wake. While the blaze thrives and Kyle is nothing but a charred corpse tied to the stake, the three witches turn away from the scene to begin their walk back to their car. The smell of burnt flesh is in the air, and a pang of contriteness tingles in Zoe’s body. She allows a single tear to slide down her cheek before she gathers herself together. She will grieve and sort through her emotions in her lonely room later. For now, she must understand why she did this. She didn’t do it for her coven or for Cordelia, or even for herself. It’s far simpler than that. She removes the photo from her dress pocket, and she gives the tiniest smile on her salted lips as she stares at it. She did it for Madison.