The windshield wipers screeched, scraping against the glass as the rain died down to a slight drizzle by the time we pulled up to Kenna’s. The house looked normal; nothing out of the ordinary until we drove around the circular drive. The siding of the house was charred black. A large plastic tarp billowed in the wind, covering the gaping hole left by the fire, trying to keep the rain out.
“It’s honestly not as bad as I thought.” Emory peered out the rain-specked windshield.
I placed my hands on the dashboard, leaning forward to get a better look. I grimaced, taking in the destruction Grey had caused with zero remorse. “I’m just glad no one got hurt.”
“Ready to make a run for it?” Emory said, turning off the engine. The moment she said it, rain began pelting the car. We both looked at one another with wide eyes, and I tightened my grip around the drink carrier. I jumped out first, taking off in a sprint.
The front door was unlocked, so we didn’t bother knocking.
“Hello?” I called. The smell of smoke was overwhelming. “Wow.” I pinched my nose with my free hand, balancing the coffees in the other.
“It smells like smoke,” Emory stated the obvious, scrunching her nose into the crook of her elbow.
“Kenna?” I tried again, but there was no reply.
Click. Click. Click. The sound of someone murdering a keyboard came from the kitchen. Sweat coated my palms and I sent up a silent prayer that it was Kenna and not Mr. Whitethorn.
Relief flooded my system seeing Kenna perched on a stool in the kitchen, working on her laptop. Her fingers haphazardly poked and prodded the keys.
“How can you stand the smell?” I asked, setting her coffee on the counter.
She lifted her nose in the air and sniffed. “I guess I’m nose blind to it at this point.” She shrugged.
“What are you working on?” I looked over Kenna’s shoulder.
“I’m trying to create a campaign banner, but the formatting is giving me problems.”
“Does it say congratulations?” Emory asked between sips of coffee. “I think we all know your dad is going to win.”
Kenna leaned back in the barstool. “I know, but he wants to put on a good show.”
The door slammed shut and I jumped out of my skin, spilling a few drops of coffee onto the counter. “Shoot,” I muttered using my hand to wipe up the spill.
“Dad’s been in a screaming match all morning with the insurance company. He’s on his way to meet with the fire chief, but they’re still looking into the cause of the fire.” Kenna poked around the donut box, debating on which one to grab.
My heart hammered, and I leaned against the counter for support. What if they determined the fire had been started intentionally? Mrs. Abbot could place me in the study right before it started.
I gulped down my coffee, wetting my dry mouth. “I’m going to use the bathroom real quick.” I hurried from the kitchen, glancing at my phone. No new messages. My fingers itched to call Grey. They hovered over his name, but I thought better of it. He’d only laugh at my worry about the fire. The fire he started.
The smell of charred wood and plastic intensified the closer I got to the study. But I needed to see it for myself. The doorswere half open, hanging on by only the bottom hinges. I pushed on one of them with my knuckle to reveal ash and rubble.
My knees wobbled. The entire room was destroyed. Burnt to a crisp.
I fled to the bathroom, no longer able to look at the destruction.
I stared at my reflection. I looked as tired as I felt. And was that a zit? That massive crater wasn’t on my cheek yesterday. My breath fogged the mirror as I leaned in closer, seeing if it was ready to pop.
Coldness shrouded the room, covering my body like a blanket, sprouting goosebumps over my skin. Something moved so quickly in the mirror I wondered if I imagined it. I whipped my head around and stared at the towel rack.
“Help,” the whisper caressed the back of my mind. “Help me,” it repeated over and over. I shook my head. The pounding made it difficult to focus on anything.
And just like that, the coldness was gone as quickly as it appeared. But the pressure in my eye sockets remained. I splashed cold water on my face, afraid to open my eyes. My heart raced at what I might see if I did, but I managed a quick peek. Nothing. There was nothing. I took a steadying breath and made my way back to the kitchen on shaky legs.
“What do you think of these?” Kenna asked the second I rounded the corner into the kitchen. A fake smile tugged at my lips. It was amazing the things you could hide behind a well-timed smile and bubbly demeanor.
“They’re great,” I replied, unable to see the images without my glasses.
“I have so much I need to do.” She went right back to focusing on her computer screen. “And I could use y’all’s help.” The images slowly came into focus as I leaned in. Kenna clumsilyclicked around, trying to edit and add images to different templates. Clearly, she hadn’t drunk enough of her coffee yet.
