First light

You kept the fire, and at first light it was still burning.
First light came, as Pike had said it would. He put his lantern to the shutter, looked at the fire for a long time, and went away to write in his own book that Sallowmere was keeping its fire.
First light comes grey through the shutter cracks, and with it Jonas Pike's lantern, and his face behind it. He looks at the fire for a long time. Then he goes away to write in his own book that Sallowmere is keeping its fire.
Phoebe has not slept. She sits on the bottom stair with the poker across her knees, and she asks you, as if it were an ordinary question, whether you will come back.
You do not know how to answer her. Somewhere above you, very faintly, there is a sound like a switch.
Then I shall keep the fire, she says, until you do.
The lights come on. White light, humming. Your friends still have their phones up, laughing, and nobody noticed you were gone. On every phone the kitchen went dark for less than a second. In the wall, the old fireplace is swept and empty, and smells of smoke.
Your phone buzzes. A message from the host, in the booking app:
Thank you for keeping the fire. The house prefers it. P.
The forty days ended at Martinmas. Nobody came back to tell her.
Part 2, The Sitting, is the next night in this house. Remember where you hid the key.
The London silk is ash in the grate, and Margaret's wedding with it. Hester has not spoken since it went on the fire.
Title earned: The stranger at the hearth.
