Chapter 4 - Ashes Under the Floor
That night, Elena finally told them part of the truth.
She had worked at Harbor House as a bookkeeper, tracking rent payments for tenants who paid in cash. The building’s owner was not Vane. It belonged to a charitable foundation called Bellwether Renewal, which had received city grants to preserve affordable housing.
“Then why did Vane own it after the fire?” Lena asked.
“Because the foundation disappeared.”
“Foundations don’t disappear.”
“People make them disappear.”
Elena refused to answer more. She hid the gun and locked the laundromat before dawn.
Lena spent the morning searching property records. Every trail ended at Miriam Sloane, director of the Mercy Legal Center and Lena’s employer. Miriam had hired Lena after law school and had become the closest thing she had to a mentor.
When Lena showed her the ledger, Miriam did not look surprised.
“You should have brought this to me first.”
“You knew about Harbor House.”
“Everyone in Bellwether knows about Harbor House.”
“Not the ledger.”
Miriam folded her hands. “Your father was a difficult man.”
“He was framed.”
“That is not what the court decided.”
“Courts decide what they are given.”
Miriam’s gaze sharpened. “Be careful, Lena. Righteousness is expensive when you have no money.”
Lena left without answering.
That afternoon, she returned to the condemned building with Nico. The fire inspector had sealed the basement, but the brass key opened a maintenance hatch beneath a collapsed staircase.
They crawled through ash and broken pipes until they reached a room that should not have existed. Its walls were lined with steel cabinets. Most were empty. One contained dozens of old tenant files.
The files showed that Harbor House residents had been offered relocation money days before the fire. Some had refused. Several signatures were forged.
Nico pulled out a folder. “Look.”
Inside was a list of chemical deliveries made to the building two days before the fire. The vendor was a company owned by Vane.
Lena photographed every page.
Then the basement door slammed shut.
“We’re not alone,” Nico whispered.
Footsteps moved overhead.
A match flared through the doorway. Fire raced along a line of spilled solvent.
Nico kicked at the door. “Move!”
Smoke swallowed the room.
Lena grabbed the files while Nico searched for another exit. He found a ventilation shaft barely wide enough for a person.
“You first,” he said.
“Absolutely not.”
“You’re smaller.”
“You’re faster.”
“I’m also your brother, which means I get to make the stupid decision.”
The heat rose. Lena shoved the files into her coat and climbed into the shaft. Nico followed as flames consumed the room.
They emerged behind the building, coughing and black with soot.
Julian stood beside the alley entrance.
Lena charged him. “Did you know?”
“Know what?”
“Someone just tried to burn us alive.”
His eyes moved to the smoke. “Yes.”
She slapped him.
He accepted it without raising a hand.
“You knew this place was dangerous.”
“I knew.”
“You knew there were records.”
“I suspected.”
“You knew enough to stop us.”
“I tried.”
“By threatening me?”
“By keeping you alive.”
Lena shoved the folder against his chest. “Vane’s company delivered the chemicals.”
Julian read the page. Something changed in his face—not surprise, but recognition.
“This invoice is fake,” he said.
“You’re defending him?”
“No. I’m telling you it was created to be found.”
He looked toward the burning building.
“Someone wants you to blame Vane before you find the person who signed the order.”
“The woman in red.”
May you like
Julian met her eyes.
“Now you understand why your father was afraid.”
