Chapter 2 - THE BOY WHO WASN’T SUPPOSED TO ESCAPE
The first firefighter reached Clara before Arthur did.
“Ma’am, give me the child.”
Clara tightened her arms around Leo automatically.
“No.”
The firefighter stopped.
Not because she sounded aggressive.
Because she sounded terrified.
“Ma’am, he needs oxygen.”
Clara looked down.
Leo’s face had gone pale beneath the soot.
His tiny fingers still clutched the collar of her pink uniform.
“Clara,” he whispered.
“I’m here.”
“I don’t want to go back.”
Her chest tightened.
“You’re not going back.”
Only then did she let the paramedic take him.
Arthur rushed forward.
“Leo!”
His son turned toward him weakly.
“Dad.”
Arthur nearly collapsed with relief.
He reached for the boy, but the paramedic held up a hand.
“Give us thirty seconds.”
Victoria remained several feet away.
That was the first thing Clara noticed.
The second was Victoria’s expression.
Not relief.
Not gratitude.
Fear.
Clara had spent eighteen months working inside the Ashbourne estate. She knew Victoria’s faces.
The polite smile for donors.
The cold expression reserved for staff.
The irritated one when Arthur contradicted her.
The flawless socialite mask she wore in front of photographers.
This was none of them.
Victoria looked like someone whose plan had failed.
Clara’s blood ran cold.
Arthur turned toward her.
“Clara.”
She looked up.
He crossed the courtyard and put both hands on her shoulders.
“Thank you.”
Simple.
No grand speech.
His voice broke on the second word.
“You brought my son back.”
Clara swallowed.
“Someone locked his door.”
Arthur went still.
“What?”
Victoria’s head snapped toward her.
Clara continued.
“The east-wing nursery was locked from the outside.”
Victoria interrupted.
“That’s impossible.”
Clara looked at her.
“No, ma’am.”
“You must have been confused.”
“I pulled the handle.”
“The heat warps doors.”
“The fire had not reached that hallway yet.”
Arthur’s gaze shifted toward Victoria.
Then back to Clara.
“How did you get in?”
“Service passage.”
“What service passage?”
Clara almost laughed.
Of course he didn’t know.
People who owned estates rarely knew the routes used by the people who cleaned them.
“There’s an old corridor behind the linen room. It connects to the east bedrooms.”
Victoria said sharply:
“That corridor was sealed years ago.”
“No.”
Clara looked directly at her.
“It was blocked by furniture.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
“You moved it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I heard Leo screaming.”
Silence.
Then Leo cried out from the ambulance.
“Clara!”
She ran.
The paramedic was fitting an oxygen mask over his face.
Leo grabbed her wrist.
“The lady told me not to open the door.”
Clara froze.
Arthur heard it.
Victoria did too.
Arthur leaned closer.
“What lady?”
Leo’s eyes shifted toward his mother.
Victoria’s face lost all color.
Then he whispered:
“Grandma Evelyn.”
Nobody spoke.
Arthur slowly straightened.
“My mother?”
Victoria answered too quickly.
“Leo is confused.”
Leo shook his head.
“No.”
His small voice was hoarse.
“She came into my room.”
Arthur crouched.
“What did Grandma say?”
Leo looked at Clara.
“She said there was going to be smoke.”
The courtyard went silent.
Even the firefighters seemed to disappear from Clara’s awareness.
Arthur asked:
“What else?”
“She said I had to stay in bed.”
Victoria stepped forward.
“That’s enough.”
Arthur turned.
“Why?”
“He’s traumatized.”
“And?”
“He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
Leo began crying.
Clara reached for him.
Arthur looked at his wife.
Then at the burning east wing.
Then back at his son.
Something inside him changed.
“Where is my mother?”
Nobody answered.
One of the estate guards hurried over.
“Mr. Ashbourne.”
Arthur turned.
“What?”
“We can’t locate Mrs. Evelyn Ashbourne.”
Victoria whispered:
“She left.”
“When?”
“Before dinner.”
Arthur looked at her.
“You said she was upstairs resting.”
Victoria blinked.
Tiny mistake.
Too late.
Clara saw it.
So did Arthur.
Then the fire chief approached.
“Mr. Ashbourne?”
“Yes?”
“We need to talk privately.”
Arthur looked at Leo.
“Say it here.”
The chief hesitated.
Then:
“This fire did not start in the east wing.”
Victoria stopped breathing.
“Where did it start?” Arthur asked.
The chief looked toward the lower service corridor.
“In the electrical storage room.”
Clara frowned.
That room was nowhere near Leo.
The chief continued.
“But we found a second ignition point outside your son’s bedroom.”
Arthur’s face went blank.
Clara’s stomach turned.
Two fires.
One to create chaos.
One to trap Leo.
The chief said:
“Mr. Ashbourne, we are treating this as deliberate until proven otherwise.”
Victoria stepped backward.
Arthur saw.
“Where are you going?”
“I need air.”
“We’re outside.”
She stopped.
Then a firefighter came running from the east courtyard.
“Chief!”
“What?”
“We found something.”
He held out a small black object sealed inside an evidence bag.
A burned metal key.
Leo’s bedroom key.
Clara recognized the engraved blue enamel on the handle.
She had polished it every Friday.
Arthur looked at the bag.
Then at Victoria.
“Who had that key?”
Victoria whispered:
“Staff.”
Clara immediately shook her head.
“No.”
Arthur turned.
“What?”
“The staff keys are silver.”
She pointed.
“That blue key belonged to family.”
Arthur’s face hardened.
“Who?”
Clara answered.
“Your mother.”
And for the first time that night, Victoria looked directly at Clara with hatred.
Not because Clara had rescued Leo.
May you like
Because she had remembered too much.
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