Chapter 4 - FIRE DOESN’T FORGET
The flames raced faster than Emily thought fire could move.
Old paper became fuel.
Boxes caught.
A curtain of orange climbed the wall.
“Window!” Emily shouted.
They ran toward the broken basement window.
Too small.
Margaret pushed Emily.
“Go!”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Emily!”
A burning shelf crashed behind them.
Smoke swallowed the ceiling.
Emily wrapped her sleeve around her hand and kicked at the window frame.
Nothing.
She kicked again.
The wood cracked.
Margaret coughed violently.
“Again!”
Emily drove her heel into it.
The rotten frame gave way.
Cold air rushed in.
Emily climbed halfway through, then reached back.
“Take my hand!”
Margaret grabbed her.
Emily pulled.
For one awful second, Margaret’s coat snagged on broken glass.
Flames rolled toward them.
Margaret screamed.
Emily yanked harder.
The fabric ripped.
They tumbled into wet grass as fire punched through the window behind them.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Margaret lay on her back.
“You called the police?”
“No.”
Detective Ruiz stepped from behind a patrol car.
“I did.”
Emily groaned.
“Oh, great.”
Ruiz marched toward them.
“Were my instructions unclear?”
Margaret coughed.
“In our defense—”
“You broke into a condemned building.”
“It was unlocked,” Emily said.
Ruiz stared at her.
“There is broken glass in your hair.”
“Technically, that happened on the way out.”
Ruiz looked ready to explode.
Then firefighters dragged a man from the side entrance.
He was alive.
One of the arsonists.
Ruiz’s expression changed.
She walked over and pulled off his mask.
Emily recognized him.
He worked security at Ashford Tower.
Margaret recognized him too.
“Eric Danner.”
Ruiz looked at her.
“You know him?”
“He’s my husband’s head of private security.”
Emily laughed once.
“Still think we’re crazy?”
Ruiz handcuffed Danner herself.
At sunrise, they returned to the hospital.
Samuel was awake.
When Emily showed him the rescued identity form, his face turned gray.
“You found it.”
“You signed it.”
Samuel closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“You helped steal me.”
“Yes.”
Margaret stood completely still.
“Why?”
Samuel’s eyes filled with shame.
“Money.”
Emily backed away.
“I thought you were trying to help.”
“I am.”
“You took money to kidnap a baby!”
“I drove the van. Claire told me the child was being moved for protection.”
“And you believed her?”
“No.”
His answer silenced the room.
Samuel looked at Emily.
“I knew something was wrong. But I had a sick wife, two kids, and seventeen dollars in the bank.”
Emily’s face hardened.
“So you sold me.”
“I sold a piece of my soul.”
“That sounds prettier.”
“It isn’t.”
Samuel turned toward Margaret.
“Three days later I went back to Saint Anne’s. I tried to take the baby.”
Margaret’s eyes widened.
“What happened?”
“Claire caught me. Thomas threatened my family.”
Emily asked, “And Nora?”
Samuel looked confused.
“Nora?”
“My foster mother.”
“I never met Nora Bennett.”
Emily stared at him.
“That’s impossible.”
“No. The baby was under the care of a nun named Sister Catherine.”
Margaret frowned.
“Then who was Nora?”
Emily’s phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
She answered.
“Hello?”
A woman whispered, “Emily?”
Emily froze.
She knew that voice.
Older.
Weaker.
But unmistakable.
“Nora?”
Margaret stared at her.
Emily’s foster mother had supposedly died three years earlier.
The voice trembled.
“Don’t trust Samuel Pike.”
Emily looked at him.
Samuel had gone white.
Nora continued.
“And whatever you do…”
A breath.
“…don’t let Margaret Ashford take you home.”
May you like
The line went dead.
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