Page 34 of Burned

Ice creeps through my veins.

My past stands among the destruction of what I thought would be my future.

“Bachman’s Jewelers—” My throat tightens. Erin looks at me. “That location was burned in the attack on the Village.”

“When the smoke cleared and the debris was removed, we boarded up what was left. The storefronts were furthest from the explosives,” Rafe corrects. “Forgotten.

Left on the blocked-off streets. We haven’t touched it since the attack, still deciding what to do with it after the Morettis.”

Curious about our past, or maybe wanting to direct the conversation away from Isobel, Erin asks, “What kind of contact point was it originally?”

“Old courier drop,” I say. “Way back before the old landline phones even existed.

Money, weapons, and secrets were exchanged there.”

Our past. Our history. Our future.

Gone.

I can’t hide the emotion from my voice.

I can’t hide the bitter tone in my voice. “And now, it’s nothing.”

“Aye,” Bayne says, sensing my grief. “And your family will build it back.”

“Yes, we will. Stronger than before,” Blaze adds.

“Except it’s not nothing,” Gregory says.

The short clip plays on a loop. I can’t stop myself from looking at it again. Even blurred, even distant, the shape of her is familiar enough to make something in my chest tear open.

Summer light.

A white dress.

A scream through smoke.

Now my hands are the ones to curl. I can’t look at Erin.

The cabin disappears for half a second.

I am in the fire again.

Smoke black enough to blind. Heat crawling over my skin. Men screaming my name. My lungs burning. Carlos’s voice somewhere in the chaos, telling me to run.

Her screaming my name.

I grip the back of the chair in front of me until the wood creaks.

“Lucian.” Erin’s voice. Quiet but strong. Anchoring.

I look at her despite myself. Her eyes are fixed on my hands. On the wood splintering under my grip.

I release the chair.

Slowly.

She catches my eye and smiles. Soft. Kind. Reassuring.