“Intentionally? Are you kidding me?” My voice is shaky as I process this.
“Just get here, Abby.”
“I’m on my way,” I say, hanging up. The room spins around me as I turn to face
my team. “Guys, I have to go. There’s been a fire at my building. They think it
was set on purpose.”
Karl stands up, visibly concerned. “Do you want us to come with you?”
“No, you guys stay. Handle the interview with Vanessa if she shows up. Explain
the situation, please. I just… I need to see what’s happened.” I’m already
grabbing my coat and bag.
Enter title…
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Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt“We’ve got this, Abby. Go,” Anton says, nodding firmly.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, almost out the door now.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Just go!” Chloe shouts after me.
As soon as I arrive at my building, I see the mess. Fire trucks, police cars,
neighbors standing outside wrapped in blankets, the stench of burnt wood and
plastic in the air. David spots me as I push through the crowd.
“Abby, over here.”
“What happened?” I ask, my eyes darting around, trying to assess the damage.
“It started on the first floor, in the storage room. The firefighters contained it
before it could spread too much, but there’s still a lot of damage,” Mr. Davis
explains, wringing his hands.
“A storage room? That’s…odd,” I say, confused and anxious.
A police officer approaches us, her face stern. “You’re the tenant from apartment
8?”
“Yes, I am. Abby. What’s going on?”
“We’re investigating. It seems like the fire was started intentionally. Do you have
any enemies, anyone who might want to harm you?”
I almost laugh at the absurdity. “Enemies? No, I run a restaurant, not a mafia.”
The officer doesn’t smile. “We’re taking this very seriously. We have yet to
identify the person responsible.”
“How bad is the damage?” I ask, still trying to wrap my head around the
situation.
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“We’ll need to make some repairs, but your apartment is mostly okay,” Mr. Davis
interjects. “Some water and smoke damage. You might want to stay somewhere
else for a few days, though.”
I swallow. The weight of it all suddenly feels like too much. A fire, possibly
caused by an arsonist, on the very day that I’m supposed to publish a news
article?
“Sorry, but do you know where in the building the fire may have originated
from?” I ask the officer just before she walks away.
The officer nods, then gestures for me to follow. David and I trail behind her into
apartment, number eight along the row of townhouses. I can feel my heart leap
into my throat as we make our way up the front steps and in through the door.
“Oh my god…”