Chapter 4 - Fire in the SolmereThe smoke came fast.
Too fast.
Evelyn grabbed my wrist.
“Move.”
We ran.
The archive had another exit hidden behind the shelves.
She pushed against a panel.
It opened.
A stairwell appeared.
We climbed.
Alarms screamed above us.
Smoke filled the lower corridor.
I coughed.
“What started the fire?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
She looked over her shoulder.
“I expect you to survive long enough to find out.”
We reached the ground floor.
The lobby was chaos.
Guests were rushing toward the exits.
Security guards shouted directions.
Sprinklers had activated.
Water poured from the ceiling.
Victoria stood near the revolving doors, screaming into her phone.
Richard was nowhere.
I scanned the crowd.
Then saw him.
My uncle was standing beside the reception desk.
Calm.
Dry.
Watching the fire.
He wasn't trying to help anyone.
He was watching the flames spread.
I walked toward him.
He saw me.
His expression changed.
“Charlotte.”
“You knew.”
He didn't respond.
“You knew about the archive.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Mom was investigating.”
“Yes.”
“Did you kill her?”
His jaw clenched.
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
I stepped closer.
“Then tell me who did.”
He looked at the burning ceiling.
“Your mother wasn't killed because of the hotel.”
“Then why?”
Richard lowered his voice.
“Because of you.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
He reached into his jacket.
Security moved toward us.
Richard handed me a photograph.
It showed my mother holding a baby.
Me.
But behind her stood a man I didn't recognize.
A tall man.
Dark hair.
Cold eyes.
On the back of the photograph was a date.
The day I was born.
And beneath it, a name.
Daniel Cross.
I stared.
“Who is he?”
Richard looked toward the exits.
“Your father.”
I nearly dropped the photograph.
“You said he was unknown.”
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother made me promise.”
“Where is he?”
Richard swallowed.
“He's dead.”
Before I could say another word, glass shattered.
A gunshot echoed through the lobby.
Everyone screamed.
Richard shoved me to the ground.
Another shot.
The bullet struck the marble column behind us.
Security opened fire toward the upper balcony.
A figure disappeared into smoke.
Richard grabbed my arm.
“Run!”
We rushed through a service corridor.
I pulled free.
“Why are you helping me?”
He stopped.
His face was haunted.
“Because I already lost your mother.”
His voice cracked.
“I won't lose you too.”
He disappeared around the corner.
I stood there, stunned.
Then I noticed something in my hand.
The photograph.
On the back, someone had written another sentence.
Not in my mother's handwriting.
Not Richard's.
Mine.
Only I had never written it.
You were never supposed to survive.
My stomach dropped.
A figure appeared at the end of the corridor.
Victoria.
Her white gown was soaked.
She held something behind her back.
“You should have stayed gone,” she whispered.
I backed away.
“Why?”
She smiled.
“Because now I have no choice.”
May you like
She pulled out a knife.
I ran.
