Edith was kneeling down by the embers of the fire grate, the remnants of yesterday's flame. She used the poker to push over the old burnt wood and layered the papers on top so it could re-start. She had felt a hand on her shoulder before and turned, thinking it was Thomas. She saw nothing but air.
"In here!" she called, dusting off her blackened hands. At least the living room wasn't red with clay on the walls.