The second red flag was the little pony coughing her lungs out, her soot-covered face perched out of said window. Squinting as hard as I could to make sure I wasn’t going schizoid, the bright backdrop of flames and embers obfuscating my vision with a blistering haze of heat, more and more did I come to terms with the fact that yes, there truly was a stranger in my house, and yes, she really had screamed. And this pony, I... I knew this pony, and…