Stupid, stupid Elowyn. You should’ve asked him to hold off, maybe until next month. Or next year.
Yeah, I should’ve. He’s only been gone for an hour, and ugh, I miss him.
Varn skids as he reaches the ball, paws digging into the grass. When he whips his head toward me, ball jammed between his teeth, his eyes shine.
Did you see that? Did you see what I did?
“Yes! You got it!”
My baby is just the cutest thing ever.
He’s also going to be a big brother soon. Maybe. Probably.
My hand goes to my belly, rubbing it over my wool sweater. I’ve done it plenty of times the past two days when Duncan isn’t looking.
Consciously, I’m aware that being two days late could mean nothing.
I hope it’s everything.
A contented sigh escapes me.
But my happiness is short-lived.
As Varn bounds back, thrilled as ever, a strange scent cuts through my bubble of warmth.
Smoke.
Alarm bells go off in my head. I turn around fast, almost stumbling on Varn in the process.
The scene unfolding before me stops my heart.
“Oh, no.” All the air is knocked out of my lungs. I go weak at the knees. “No.”
Our home. Our home is burning up.
Light flashes in the windows, the fire ripping through the mansion, the ivy, and the trees surrounding it, fast.
Too fast.
Way,way, too fast.
My stomach bottoms out as I understand what’s going on.
This wasn’t an accident.
It was arson.
Someone must’ve doused our home in gasoline and lit it up.
Mary and Herbert. They’re inside, and—oh God.
I don’t think. Don’t consider anything. Just sprint toward the house.
Varn’s dropped the ball, and now he runs at my side, barking. Poor thing, he must be freaking out. I wish I could comfort or hug him.
I will, later.
“Mary!” I shouldn’t get too close. Not when a crack echoes as part of the roof collapses, sending a plume of sparks into the air. “Herbert!”
