Page 94 of The Firefighter's Fate

As I run, my eyes scan around the gathered witnesses. I don’t know if anyone’s hurt. I don’t know if everyone from the mansion is accounted for. We have so many staff members working at the place... guests...

I sprint to my father, but the men with guns reach me first.

“Back off,” they are saying to me, crowding around me and blocking the path to my father.

“Look at me,” I bellow at the assembled men, pissed off they aren’t doing anything about the fucking flames destroying my family home. “I’m a fucking Penmayne. Let me through to him.”

They retreat, and I continue to storm up to the man who raised me.

“Where’s Mother?” I ask him. It’s the first words out of my mouth. I have no time for bullshit or pleasantries. Not now.

I am angry. So deeply angry.

But I don’t know who I should be angry at.

What motherfucker has done this?

Waylen looks at me without surprise - he must’ve guessed the fire department would arrive. He must’ve presumed I would turn up with the team.

“She’s out of town on business,” he replies.

He stares at the fire, a phone in his hand. He’s been making calls, but even Waylen Penmayne - with all his money and power and contacts in the world - can’t stop the simple force of nature. That phone ain’t stopping a burning fire.

For once, Waylen Penmayne has met something he can’t control.

“Who’s done this?” I question my father.

“I’m trying to figure that out,” Waylen replies, looking down at his phone now.

His steadiness angers me. It’s like he is ignoring me.

“Is there anyone else in there?” I ask him. “Anyone on staff reported missing?”

Waylen sighs and looks around.

“This should be everyone,” he replies.

“Yeah?”

But then he suddenly turns to me. His eyes are wide. He’s uncharacteristically panicked.

He only has to say one word...

“Ember.”

Fuck.

No.

“She’s in there?” I ask him.

Waylen’s eyes are quickly and desperately scanning the surrounding staff scattered on the Penmayne property.

“She’s not out here.”

She must’ve been a guest...

Fuck.

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