Fire

Vivian’s POV:

The call abruptly ended, and horror washed over me as I quickly pocketed my phone. I turned to face Harper, his expression a mix of confusion and concern, as he inquired about the call. My mind raced as I tried to process the situation. "We need to get back to her as soon as possible!" I exclaimed urgently, my voice reflecting the anxiety coursing through me. Without wasting another moment, I dashed towards the cafe’s door, leaving my coffee behind as my heart pounded and adrenaline surged through my veins. What happened?

Harper quickly followed my lead, wearing his glasses while rushing to the car and opening both the driver's and passenger's doors. I thanked him and settled into the seat, buckling my seatbelt as I voiced my concern, "Can you please drive me to Edna's apartment? I feel like something happened." My words were laced with worry, and I looked at Harper, nodding in understanding. He closed my door and hurried to the driver's seat, searching his pockets for the car key. He inserted it into the ignition, stepped on the gas pedal, and we were on our way without a moment's delay. The situation was urgent and palpable. I could feel my heart racing as we sped toward Edna's apartment.

I fixed my gaze on the passing scenery outside the windows, the cityscape becoming a blur as we accelerated, leaving the urban area and entering a tunnel that led to Edna's apartment. The journey passed in a blur, and before I knew it–- we were approaching her apartment complex. The echoing sirens of ambulances and firetrucks grew louder, originating from the direction of her apartment. My heart raced, a sense of dread settling over me as we neared the scene. I swallowed the lump in my throat, hoping that nothing dire happened to our only lead in this case.

Harper abruptly brought the car to a halt, his eyes widening in shock as we gazed at a horrifying sight. The apartment window on the third floor to the right was engulfed in flames, billowing smoke into the sky. Firefighters hastily set up ladders and rushed into the building, their urgent actions heightening my worries. A cold feeling settled in my stomach as I realized that window was Edna’s. My heart sank, and I quickly opened the car door, stepping out onto the scene. A crowd had gathered, their faces etched with worry and fear as they watched the flames consume the building’s third floor.

I sank onto the cold concrete road as my gaze locked onto the unfolding disaster. The sight of the flames devouring the apartment building held me in a trance, my mind struggling to process the situation. A gentle touch on my shoulder roused me from my shock, and I turned to find Harper beside me, his comforting presence a small anchor amid chaos. As the realization hit me, guilt and regret surged through me. The ominous cracking sounds during the phone call now made horrifying sense – it was the sound of fire. I felt a pang of responsibility. If only I had acted better, and if only I acted more decisively. The consequences of my oversight were playing out before me, and I felt a deep sense of powerlessness. Edna's fate seemed sealed, a chilling reminder that the stakes in this investigation were higher than I had initially thought.

My internal self-reproach continued as I watched the scene unfold, feeling the weight of missed opportunities and the heaviness of guilt. Suddenly, a group of paramedics emerged from the building, carrying a stretcher with someone on it. Adrenaline surged through me as I sprinted toward them, arriving just in time to stop them before they could load the person into the waiting ambulance. The medics exchanged glances, recognizing my urgency, and allowed me to approach the stretcher. The victim's appearance was a stark confirmation of my fears – the scent of charred wood, ash clinging to their hair, and burns marred their skin. It was Edna, her condition confirming my suspicions. Her fate became sealed once she called me.

In that heart-wrenching moment, our sole link to unraveling the case slipped away, leaving us in despair. The situation had taken a grim turn, and it seemed as if we had inadvertently fallen into yet another trap, our actions playing right into the hands of an elusive and cunning adversary. As the medics carefully loaded Edna's stretcher into the waiting ambulance, I stood there frozen and overwhelmed by frustration. Amid this turmoil, a tap on my shoulder snapped me out of my reverie, and I turned to see Harper shaking his head in disapproval.

“You shouldn’t give up on this, detective,” Harper's voice cut through the heavy air, his words carrying a tone of determination as he gazed up at the towering building, his eyes locked on the charred window. His reassuring hand on my back offered a sense of comfort. As we stood there, waiting for the firefighters to extinguish the flames, Harper's calm demeanor was surprising, especially considering the grim circumstances. His words perplexed me, and I turned to him with a mix of confusion and curiosity, “This was an interesting turn of events, but a good one,” he stated, his gaze unwavering as he met my eyes. How could he find anything good in this situation?

“What is ‘good’ about this, Harper?” I questioned, my gaze fixed on him through his glasses, the backdrop of a chaotic scene of rushing water and frantic footsteps. Harper's gentle smile in the middle of all this was puzzling. He replied, his voice steady despite the clamor around us, “Because… the killer probably didn’t even plan this murder in the first place,” he suggested, a calm exhale escaping his lips as the acrid scent of smoke mixed with the water vapor in the air, a result of both the burning apartment and the efforts to extinguish the flames. Why couldn’t I figure out what he meant? Am I not cut out for this like I thought? I frowned, letting him explain further.