I WAS WEAK-KNEED as we mounted the stairs, but my mind was sharp. The stairs hadn’t burned, and the doors to the two lower apartments stood open. The apartments looked untouched by fire. This made no sense.
But it all became clear at the top of the stairs.
The door to my apartment was in shards. I stepped through the shattered door frame and saw the stars and the moon where my ceiling used to be. I lowered my eyes from the night sky, finding it hard to take in the grotesque condition of my little nest. The walls were black, curtains gone, the glass in my kitchen cabinets blown out. My crockery and the food in my pantry had exploded, making the place smell crazily like popcorn and Clorox.
My cozy living room furniture had melted down into hunks of sodden foam and wire springs. And then I knew - the fire had taken everything. Martha whined and I bent to her, buried my face in her fur.
Lindsay,” I heard someone shout. “Are you okay
I turned to see Chuck Hanni coming out of the bedroom.
Did he have something to do with this
Had Rich been right all along
And then I saw Conklin right behind Hanni, and both of their faces were sagging with my pain.
Rich opened his arms. I held on to him in the smoking black ruins of my home, so glad he was there. But as I rested my head on his shoulder, the stark realization hit me: if Cindy hadn’t called with her impromptu getaway plan, I would have been home with Martha when the fire broke out.
I ripped myself away from Rich and called out to Hanni.
My voice was trembling.
Chuck, what happened here? I have to know. Did someone try to kill me
