Burning shadow

The acrid stench of smoke clung to the morning air as Myrto Zervou shuffled past the charred remains of the New Dawn Party’s local office. The fire had gutted the building overnight, leaving behind blackened walls and the sour tang of gasoline. A small crowd murmured nearby, while two weary policemen strung up yellow tape.

Myrto adjusted her black headscarf and clucked her tongue. "Fire is a bad servant and a worse master," she muttered to no one in particular.

Her son, Aris, lumbered up beside her, his carpenter’s hands stuffed in his pockets. "Mama, don’t start. The police will handle it."

"Bah!" Myrto waved a dismissive hand. "Those boys couldn’t find a goat in a church. Someone did this on purpose."

Aris sighed. "And what are you going to do? Interrogate the ashes?"

"Ashes don’t whisper lies," she shot back, eyes narrowing at a glint near the rubble. She bent down slowly, joints protesting and plucked a half-melted cigarette lighter from the debris. Engraved initials: A.K.

*    *    * *    *    *

That afternoon, Myrto marched into Ouzeri Stelios, the dingy local taverna where the New Dawn boys drank. The room fell silent as she planted herself in front of Andreas Karamanlis, the party’s hotheaded youth leader.

"Andreas," she said sweetly, slapping the lighter on the table. "You left this at your little bonfire."

Andreas paled. "That’s not mine!"

"Liar!" barked Stelios, the taverna owner. "I’ve seen you use it a hundred times!"

Andreas bolted. Myrto didn’t chase him, she didn’t have to. Ten minutes later, Aris dragged him back by the collar.

"Alright, alright!" Andreas spat. "I was there, but I didn’t set the fire! I saw someone—covered in black, like a shadow. They threw the petrol and ran."

Myrto’s eyes gleamed. "A shadow with a name?"

Andreas hesitated. "...Maybe. But if I talk, I’m dead."

"You’ll be deader if you don’t," Aris growled.

*    *    * *    *    *

That night, Myrto and Aris staked out the abandoned textile factory where Andreas claimed the arsonist lurked. The wind howled through broken windows as a figure slipped inside.

"Now," Myrto whispered.

They burst in, Aris wielding a plank like a club. The figure spun, hood falling back to reveal Eleni, Mary’s best friend, her face streaked with soot.

"Eleni?!" Myrto gasped.

"They were going to take our homes!" Eleni cried. "The New Dawn bought the land, they were going to evict everyone!"

Myrto’s heart ached. "Foolish girl! Fire only burns the hand that lights it."

*    *    * *    *    *

The next morning, Myrto marched into the police station, dragging Eleni by the ear.

"Here’s your arsonist," she announced. "But if you ask me, the real criminals are the ones forcing people to choose between their homes and desperation."

The chief sighed. "Myrto, you can’t just..."

"I can, and I did. Now, who’s paying for the damages?"

By noon, the New Dawn’s shady land deals were front-page news. Eleni got community service. Andreas got a broken nose (courtesy of Stelios). And Myrto?

She sat on her balcony, sipping bitter coffee, watching the neighborhood breathe easy again.

"Mama," Aris said, shaking his head. "You’re a menace."

She grinned. "And you’re welcome."

THE END