Chapter 2: The House Next Door
The second vehicle stopped near the curb.
A firefighter jumped out and ran toward Daniel.
“Chief says the fire’s moving toward the rear bedroom.”
Daniel nodded.
The neighboring house belonged to Frank and Linda Mercer, a retired couple who had lived there for nearly thirty years.
Their daughter, Emily, had been visiting that morning with her young grandson.
She stood across the street now, trembling as she watched smoke pour from the roof.
“Is my parents’ house gone?” she asked.
Daniel kept his voice calm.
“We’re still working it.”
Emily looked toward the flames.
“My father’s oxygen equipment is inside.”
Daniel immediately turned toward another firefighter.
“Search team knows?”
“They’re checking the first floor.”
Karen was still standing nearby.
For the first time, she heard something that had nothing to do with her lawn.
Oxygen equipment.
An elderly couple.
A family waiting across the street.
The fire was no longer an abstract problem happening to someone else.
It had names.
It had faces.
But Karen’s frustration did not disappear.
Instead, it shifted.
She noticed water running toward a flower bed she had spent years maintaining.
Her roses were among the few things she took pride in showing visitors.
She stepped toward the edge of the lawn.
Daniel noticed.
“Please stay behind the boundary.”
“I’m just looking.”
“Stay back.”
Karen folded her arms.
Then she saw a small garden marker lying in the grass.
One of the hose lines had pushed it sideways.
Her face tightened.
“This is exactly what I was talking about.”
Emily heard her.
She turned around.
For a moment, the two women stared at each other.
Emily looked exhausted.
Karen looked angry.
Then Emily glanced toward the burning house.
“My parents are still inside their home.”
Karen opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Daniel moved past them.
The search team had found Frank.
He was being helped toward the front door.
Linda was still inside.
The firefighters disappeared back into the smoke.
Emily covered her mouth with both hands.
Karen watched.
The argument over the lawn suddenly seemed smaller.
But not small enough to make her walk away.
Instead, she made a decision.
She pulled out her phone.
“If they damage my property,” she said quietly, “I’m documenting everything.”
She began recording.
And the camera captured something Karen had not expected to see.
One of the firefighters was carrying Linda out of the house.
She was unconscious.
