Chapter 8 - Fire in the Snow
Fire looks wrong in snow.
Too bright. Too alive.
The records barn was fully burning by the time we reached the hill. Staff members dragged hoses across the courtyard while guests fled toward their cars. Smoke rolled through the vineyard in black sheets.
“Call 911!” Ethan yelled.
“I already did,” I said.
Richard grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall, but Dad stopped him.
“The east side is gone. Stay out.”
Eleanor pushed toward the barn anyway.
“My letters.”
I caught her arm. “They’re not worth dying for.”
“You don’t understand.”
Her blue eyes locked onto mine.
“Claire wrote where she was going.”
My heart kicked.
“You knew?”
“No. I never opened the final letter. She made me swear I would only open it if Rebecca was ever in danger.”
“And you kept it in a barn?”
“In a fireproof deed safe.”
Ethan heard her. “Where?”
“Back office.”
Before I could stop him, he ran inside.
“Ethan!”
I followed two steps before smoke punched me back.
Dad grabbed me around the waist. “No.”
Seconds stretched.
Then Ethan came through the side door coughing, dragging a black metal case.
I hit his chest with both hands. “Are you insane?”
“Probably.”
His eyebrows were singed.
He gave me a weak smile.
It almost broke me.
The fire department arrived as we forced open the case. Inside were deeds, tax maps, and a bundle of letters tied with faded blue ribbon.
The last envelope had never been opened.
Eleanor handed it to Ethan.
He tore it carefully.
Claire’s handwriting covered three pages.
The first line read:
Mother, if Richard says I ran away, he is lying.
The last line was worse.
I am going to the north ridge tonight to meet Daniel. If I do not come back, look beneath the winter chapel.
Everyone looked at my father.
Dad’s face went white.
“I never met her there,” he said.
May you like
Then he looked toward the hill beyond the vines.
“Because someone knocked me unconscious before I could reach her.”
