THE FIRE
The call came at 3:00 AM.
Maya was asleep at her kitchen table, her head on her arms, her laptop still glowing. She dreamed of bridges and dark water and a man with a gentle smile.
Her phone buzzed.
She grabbed it.
Unknown number.
She answered.
“Ms. Cross? This is Fire Marshal Briggs. I need you to come downtown.”
“What? Why?”
“Dr. Elias Vance’s office burned down about an hour ago. We found evidence of arson. Your name came up.”
Maya’s blood ran cold.
“I didn’t set any fire.”
“I’m not accusing you. Yet. But Dr. Vance has filed a report claiming you’ve been harassing him. Breaking into his office. Stalking his patients. We need to clear this up.”
“His office is on fire and you’re calling me at three in the morning to ask questions?”
“It’s not a question. It’s an invitation. Come in voluntarily, or I send a car.”
Maya looked at her daughter’s bedroom door. Closed. Dark. Danny was asleep.
“I’ll come in. But I want a lawyer.”
“That’s your right.”
“Not at three in the morning, it’s not. I’ll come in at eight. With counsel.”
A pause.
“Eight o’clock. Don’t be late.”
The line went dead.
Maya sat in the dark.
Her hands were shaking.
She thought about Vance’s office. The bookshelves. The listening device. The way he had crushed it in his hand.
She thought about Leah Park. Standing in his office. Talking about her.
“She’s getting close. Let her dig. And when she’s close enough—make sure she doesn’t become the fifth.”
The fifth.
She had assumed that meant the fifth victim. The fifth woman to jump from the bridge.
But what if it meant something else?
She called Danny’s phone.
“Mom?”
“I need you to wake up. We’re leaving.”
“What? Where?”
“I’ll explain in the car. Pack a bag. Warm clothes. Your phone charger. Everything you need for a few days.”
“Mom, you’re scaring me.”
“Good. Fear keeps you alive.”
She hung up.
She packed her own bag. Laptop. Notebooks. The photographs of the dream journal. The business card Vance had given her.
The card with his personal cell number.
She looked at it.
Then she called the number.
It rang twice.
He answered.
“Maya. I was wondering when you’d call.”
“You set the fire.”
“I set nothing. But I’m not sorry it happened. My office needed a fresh start.”
“Fresh start? Evidence was in that office. Patient records. Referral forms. Everything.”
“Everything is backed up. Digitally. Securely. You won’t find anything.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I can. Because you’ve been chasing shadows, and I’m tired of watching. So I’m giving you something real to chase.”
“What?”
“The fifth victim. The one you haven’t found yet. The one who’s still alive.” A pause. “For now.”
The line went dead.
Maya stared at the phone.
Danny appeared in the doorway. Dressed. Backpack on.
“Mom. What’s going on?”
Maya stood.
“We’re going underground.”