Chapter 10 - Fire Remembers
Smoke moves differently when you have already lost someone to fire.
It looks alive.
Ewan froze for half a second.
That was enough for me to see Pier 44 still living inside him.
I grabbed his shoulder.
“Stay here.”
His eyes found mine.
Then he nodded.
We moved.
Marcus pushed my mother.
Delia stayed beside her.
Arthur knew the building better than any of us.
“West stairwell!”
Celeste laughed.
“Locked.”
Arthur turned toward her.
She smiled.
“August never trusted you.”
That finally killed whatever loyalty remained.
Arthur slammed his shoulder into a side door.
Locked.
Smoke thickened.
Ewan pointed toward a maintenance shaft.
“Lower tunnel.”
We descended.
Behind us, something exploded.
The staircase shook.
Delia stumbled.
I caught her.
“Keep going.”
“What about Celeste?”
I looked back.
She was still following us.
Of course she was.
People like Celeste never expected to die inside their own traps.
At the bottom, Arthur opened an old service tunnel.
Cold air hit my face.
“River outlet.”
We entered single file.
Halfway through, Celeste stopped.
I heard metal scrape.
Then a gate slammed between us.
Ewan and I turned.
Celeste stood on the other side with Delia.
She had grabbed her during the confusion.
A gun pressed beneath Delia’s jaw.
“Keep walking,” Celeste said.
Ewan stepped toward the bars.
“Take me.”
Celeste laughed.
“I already did that once.”
His face went pale.
I said, “Celeste.”
She looked at me.
“You need my signature.”
“I have Arthur.”
“He won’t sign now.”
Her smile faded.
Arthur stepped forward.
“No.”
Celeste tightened her grip on Delia.
“You think you get principles now?”
Arthur stared at her.
“Yes.”
“After forty years?”
“Apparently it took me longer than most.”
Celeste’s eyes sharpened.
She dragged Delia backward.
Ewan gripped the bars.
“Dee.”
Delia looked at him.
And somehow, with a gun against her neck and smoke rolling behind her, she smiled.
“Six years.”
His face broke.
She continued.
“You owe me six years.”
“I know.”
“You better live long enough to pay them.”
Then Celeste dragged her into the smoke.
Ewan went wild.
He hit the gate.
Again.
Again.
His injured hand split open.
I grabbed him.
“Stop!”
“She has Delia!”
“And you’ll be useless if you break your hand.”
“We have to go back.”
“We will.”
“You sound awfully calm.”
“I am not calm.”
I pulled him close.
“I am thinking.”
That was the first time in our lives he let me lead without arguing.
Arthur showed us another tunnel.
We emerged three blocks away beside the river.
Fire engines screamed toward the foundry.
Marcus brought my mother to an ambulance.
She refused to go until she touched both my face and Ewan’s.
Then she looked toward Arthur.
He stood apart.
My mother reached for him.
He hesitated.
Then stepped closer.
Her fingers touched his hand.
Arthur began crying without making a sound.
My phone rang.
Celeste.
I answered.
Delia’s voice came first.
“Damian, don’t—”
A slap.
Then Celeste.
“Two o’clock.”
“Where?”
“You’ll get the address.”
“What do you want?”
“The original agreement.”
“You have Arthur.”
“Arthur has become emotional.”
She almost sounded disgusted.
“So now we return to you.”
“What happens at two?”
“You sign.”
“And Delia?”
“She walks away.”
“And if I don’t?”
Celeste was quiet for a second.
Then said:
“I finish what I started with Ewan.”
The line died.
A message arrived immediately.
An address.
I recognized it.
The old Vandermark mansion on Lake Shore Drive.
May you like
And beneath the address were six words:
COME ALONE OR DELIA DIES.
