The smell hits first. Burnt plastic and scorched wiring, acrid and wrong. Then the lights, red and blue strobing across row houses with peeling paint and barred windows. The school sits at the end of the block. One wing blackened, windows blown out, smoke still curling into the night sky.
I pull up behind a fire truck, kill the engine. A crowd has gathered on the sidewalk. Neighbors in bathrobes, parents clutching phones, kids who should be asleep pressed against their mothers' legs. Their faces shift between fear and anger as they watch the firefighters work.
“Stay close,” I tell Emma. “This could get hostile.”
We're barely on the sidewalk when a reporter spots me, her camera crew moving in like wolves.
“Mr. Rhodes!” She moves fast, heels clicking on asphalt. “Can you confirm that ELK Energy systems caused this fire?”
I keep walking, stepping in front of Emma to shield her from the lens. “No comment at this time.”
“Sources say your equipment malfunctioned. Do you have any response to allegations that ELK cut corners on safety inspections?”
“I said no comment.”
She keeps pace, microphone thrust toward my face. “Parents are demanding answers. A school full of children could have been inside. What do you say to them?”
I stop, turn to face her, keeping Emma behind me. The camera light is blinding, but I've done this before.
“We don't yet know the cause of this fire, and I'm here to support the families in any way I can. ELK cares deeply about the Ravenwood community. I won't rest until we discover exactly what happened tonight.”
She opens her mouth to push back, but I step closer, lowering my voice. “That's your quote. Now get the camera out of my face, or my lawyers will make your night very unpleasant.”
She falters. I slip my arm behind Emma's back, use the gap to push through, hand firm on her waist as I guide her past the cameras and shouted questions.
Ethan meets us at the perimeter tape, lifting it as we approach. “You're clear. I had a conversation with the officer in charge.”
The way he saysconversationtells me everything I need to know.
“Good.” I duck under the tape, pulling Emma with me.
I follow Ethan to where Maddox is hunched over a laptop on the hood of a black SUV, fingers flying across the keys.
“Ethan, Maddox,” I say. “This is Emma.”
Ethan's eyes flick to her, then back to me. One pierced eyebrow rises. He extends a hand anyway. “Nice to meet you. Wish it were under better circumstances.”
“Me too.” Emma shakes his hand. “I'll stay out of your way.”
Maddox glances up, gives Emma a long look. He's seen her files, knows her history. Seeing her standing in the smoke beside me forces a recalibration. He shifts his gaze to me, eyes demanding a reason for her presence.
I meet his stare, jaw set.She's staying.
He accepts it with an imperceptible tilt of his head.
“Someone wiped thirty minutes of footage from the exterior cameras. Clean job.”
“Can you recover it?”
“Already working on it.” His fingers start moving again. “Whoever did this knows what they're doing. I'm hoping they made a mistake somewhere.”
There's something dangerous in the way he says it. Maddox doesn't get angry like other people. He gets quiet. Focused. Until he destroys whoever crosses him.
A woman breaks through the crowd near the building, flanked by a firefighter. Mrs. Okonkwo. I recognize her from the installation ceremony a month ago. She'd smiled then, talked about what the energy savings would mean for her students.
She's not smiling now. Blazer is covered in ash, hair disheveled.
“Mr. Rhodes.” She reaches me, hands shaking. “I had students in there.” Her voice cracks. “If we'd been in the east wing when it started...”
