Chapter 7 - THE HOUSE ON FIRE
"Fire!" Ryder screamed, clinging to his brother Cole.
The smoke was rapidly thickening, rolling across the ceiling in heavy black clouds. The automated lockdown system—designed to protect the estate from external threats—had turned the Hale mansion into a steel furnace. Every window was blocked by solid three-inch steel plates. Every exit was deadbolted.
"Stay down! Get on the floor!" Clara shouted, pulling the four boys toward her. She grabbed blankets from the beds, drenched them with water from the adjoining bathroom, and wrapped them around the children.
"Victor!" Clara screamed, rushing to the bedroom door, but the hallway was already a wall of orange flames.
The fire hadn't started by accident; someone had poured accelerant through the central ventilation system. Derek was burning the evidence—and everyone inside.
Suddenly, the secondary heavy door leading to the master wing burst open. Victor emerged through the smoke, soaking wet, holding a heavy fire extinguisher and a crowbar. His face was covered in soot, his shirt torn.
"Clara! Take the boys to the East Wing panic balcony!" Victor yelled over the roaring flames, discharging the extinguisher to clear a path through the hallway.
"The lockdown shutters are down! We can't get out!" Clara shouted back, holding Theo and Mason close to her.
"The panic balcony has a manual mechanical release!" Victor roared, driving the crowbar into a burning doorframe to keep the exit path open. "Go! NOW!"
Clara led the four boys through the suffocating smoke, navigating the labyrinthine corridors of the massive estate. The heat was blistering, cracking the oil paintings on the walls and shattering glass display cases.
They reached the East Wing panic room—a reinforced vault with an exterior balcony overlooking the back gardens.
Clara grabbed the heavy iron manual lever on the wall and pulled down with all her weight. With a groan of grinding gears, the steel shutter covering the balcony doors slowly rolled upward, letting in a blast of freezing night air and rain.
"Get out onto the balcony!" Clara commanded, pushing the four boys out into the safe air.
She turned back to make sure Victor was behind them, but the heavy oak fire door slammed shut between them, locked from the outside.
"Victor!" Clara screamed, pounding her fists against the thick wood.
Through the small reinforced glass window in the door, she saw him. But he wasn't alone.
Standing in the burning hallway across from Victor was Derek Vane, holding a suppressed pistol and a remote control device.
"It’s over, Victor," Derek’s voice came through the door’s intercom, cold and psychotic. "The house burns. The diary burns. You die in the flames. And I walk away with the boys, the money, and little Lily."
Victor didn't flinch. Even with smoke filling his lungs, he stood tall, staring down his brother-in-law.
"You forgot one thing, Derek," Victor coughed out, a bloody smile spreading across his lips.
"Oh yeah? What’s that?" Derek sneered, raising the gun.
"Clara doesn't just have the diary," Victor said quietly. "She put the flash drive in her pocket five minutes ago. And this house... has automatic cloud backup."
Derek’s face went pale. He looked frantically down at his remote control.
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Before Derek could pull the trigger, Victor lunged forward, tackling Derek into the burning carpet. The gun went off—a sharp POP—firing harmlessly into the ceiling. The two men crashed through the wooden railing of the grand staircase, falling two stories into the blazing foyer below.
"VICTOR!" Clara screamed.
