Chapter 9 - THE NIGHT THE FARM BURNED
We returned to Pennsylvania with Eleanor's testimony and the documents from the well.
Investigators began reviewing the evidence.
Dante arranged legal counsel.
I tried to return to normal life.
Then someone set fire to my farmhouse.
It happened after midnight.
I woke to the smell of smoke.
The hallway was already filling with it.
I grabbed my phone.
Called emergency services.
Then ran toward the back door.
Flames were climbing the kitchen wall.
I stumbled outside barefoot.
The cold air hit my lungs.
I turned.
My home was burning.
The porch my father built.
The kitchen my mother painted yellow.
The bedroom where I'd slept as a child.
Everything.
I screamed.
By the time Dante arrived, firefighters were already working.
He found me standing beside the driveway.
Wrapped in a blanket.
Shaking.
“Emma.”
I looked at him.
“My house.”
He stopped.
“My house is gone.”
His expression broke.
He stepped closer.
I fell into his arms.
He held me while I cried.
For a long time, he said nothing.
Then I whispered, “I hate Victor.”
Dante closed his eyes.
“I know.”
“I want him to lose everything.”
He held me tighter.
“Then let the evidence do its work.”
I looked up.
“You're telling me not to seek revenge?”
He smiled sadly.
“Your father would be proud of me.”
I laughed through tears.
Then I kissed him.
It happened without planning.
Without thinking.
I simply reached for him.
Dante froze.
Then he kissed me back.
Gently.
Carefully.
As though he were afraid I'd change my mind.
When we separated, he rested his forehead against mine.
“Emma...”
I looked into his eyes.
“I know.”
He swallowed.
“You don't.”
I smiled sadly.
“Then tell me.”
His voice trembled.
“I'm falling in love with you.”
May you like
I closed my eyes.
Then whispered, “I think I already have.”
