12
CHAPTER 12 - Through the Storm
The heat was immediate and terrifying. The black smoke billowed upward, filling the second-floor corridor, stinging Claire’s eyes and burning her throat.
"Elise! The fire exit in the west wing!" Claire shouted, grabbing Elise’s arm as they backed away from the balcony.
"What about Thomas?!" Elise cried through the smoke.
"He crawled out through the side terrace doors!" Claire shouted, seeing Thomas’s flashlight moving outside through the courtyard window. "Move! Now!"
Pendelton’s manic laughter echoed from below through the roaring flames. "You won't escape, Claire! The west wing is locked from the outside!"
Claire and Elise ran down the smoke-filled hallway toward the west wing—the wing that Elise had redesigned two years ago.
"The old coal chute!" Elise gasped, pointing to a reinforced steel utility door behind the foundation office. "When I redesigned the blueprint, I kept the old service shaft! It leads directly out to the coastal garden behind the brick arches!"
Behind them, the grand wooden staircase collapsed into the foyer with a deafening CRACK, sending a shower of red sparks shooting through the corridor.
Pendelton’s heavy boots pounded up the secondary service stairs. He burst through the smoke, his revolver raised, his eyes wide and bloodshot. "Found you!"
Before Pendelton could raise the barrel, Claire reached out and grabbed a heavy brass floor lamp from the hallway table. With all the strength in her body, she swung the heavy brass base straight into Pendelton’s chest.
CRACK!
The impact knocked the breath from Pendelton’s lungs. He stumbled backward, tripping over his own rain boots, tumbling headfirst down the steep wooden service stairs into the roaring inferno below.
"Claire! The door!" Elise screamed, pulling open the steel utility hatch.
Claire scrambled through the shaft behind Elise. They tumbled out into the cold, torrential rain of the coastal garden just as the roof of the central foyer gave way, collapsing in a spectacular eruption of golden sparks and black smoke.
Sirens wailed in the distance through the storm.
Three fire engines and four police cruisers slammed their brakes onto the gravel driveway, their red and blue lights flashing against the burning mansion. Paramedics rushed forward, wrapping Claire and Elise in thick wool blankets while firemen dragged Thomas to safety.
Claire stood in the freezing rain, holding Elise tightly in her arms.
They watched as the fire crews fought the blaze. The central foyer—the place where Garrick had slapped her, where Miriam had called her worthless, where the Vance legacy had attempted to bury her—was completely consumed by fire.
When the sun rose the following morning, the storm had passed. The sky was a brilliant, crystal-clear blue.
The central hall of Rowan House was a charred, blackened ruin. But the west wing—the sanctuary for the women—had survived completely untouched.
Claire stood in the damp grass of the courtyard, looking at the charred remains of the marble foyer.
Elise walked up beside her, wrapping a warm jacket around Claire’s shoulders. "We can rebuild it, Claire. Smaller. Stronger. Without the marble."
May you like
Claire looked at the sky, feeling the warm morning sun kiss her face.
"No," Claire said softly, a clear, beautiful smile touching her lips. "We won't rebuild a hall. We’ll turn the center into an open garden. A place where the sun can hit the ground."
