Chapter 792
“We’re sorry. The number you’re trying to reach is currently unavailable.” The robotic voice rang in my ears as I tried calling Jace again and again. Every attempt ended the same way.
Panic churned in my chest. Jace had been staying at Cloudscape Monastery, and now, with the fire and his phone silent, my mind spiraled to the worst-case scenarios. I wasn’t just worried about him; I needed answers. How bad were the casualties? Were they okay? But no matter how many times I dialed, Jace didn’t pick up.
Frustrated and desperate, I slammed my foot on the gas and switched to Cole’s number. His mother, Mrs. Drago, had also been staying at the monastery. If something had happened, surely Cole wouldn’t stay quiet.
“We’re sorry. The number you’re trying to reach is currently unavailable.” Declined. The pit in my stomach deepened. Had something happened to Mrs. Drago, too?
My mind raced as I sped toward the monastery. Jace. Mrs. Drago. Anyone else caught in that fire—I couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to them. And then a darker thought struck me: Was the fire an accident? Or was it deliberate? Could it have been aimed at me? If Lena hadn’t pulled me to Edison’s birthday party yesterday, I might’ve been there. Dead, injured, or worse. The timing was too coincidental, especially with everything I had—things others would kill to bury. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to silence me. But to involve innocent lives? That was beyond cruel.
By the time I reached the mountain’s base, the acrid smell of smoke filled the air. Faint plumes still rose in the distance, a ghostly reminder of the destruction. The road was blocked halfway up by police. I rolled down my window, my voice steady but urgent. “RiverwaveCorp CEO Jace Johnston was staying here. He’s… family.”
The word “family” slipped out naturally, a sign that I’d mostly made peace with our messy history. Now, Jace was just that—family. A brother, a friend. The officer’s expression softened at the mention of the Johnston name. “Mr. Johnston isn’t up there anymore.”
Relief flooded me, but it was short-lived. “Then where is he? Is he hurt?”
“He’s fine,” the officer assured me. “He left with paramedics earlier. Only our investigators are at the site now.”
Jace was safe. That was one weight off my chest. But two fatalities. I couldn’t shake the news report from my mind. “The victims—do you know who they are?”
“They haven’t been identified yet.”
Even with Jace out of harm’s way, the dread lingered. “What about the Drago family? Did anyone from their household come here?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know where they are? What about Mrs. Drago? Is she safe?”
“I’m sorry, you’ll need to ask them directly. We can’t release any further details during the investigation,” the officer replied curtly, clearly unwilling to entertain any more of my questions.
I glanced up toward the charred mountain. “Can I at least see for myself? Just to make sure everything’s okay?”
To my surprise, they didn’t stop me. I drove up the mountain until I reached the monastery gates. The sight that greeted me was devastating. The once serene and stately grounds were reduced to ash and ruin. The air hung heavy with floating debris, the kind of silence that screamed louder than words.
I pressed forward, heading toward the area where Mrs. Drago’s room was supposed to be. “What are you doing here? You can’t be here!” an investigator snapped as soon as he spotted me.
I quickly explained why I was there, but unlike the officers at the base, the investigators were firm. “This is an active investigation. No one is allowed on site. Please leave immediately.”
I got it—they had a job to do, and barging in wouldn’t help. Still, the knot of worry in my chest wouldn’t loosen. Reluctantly, I stepped back but couldn’t resist asking, “Can you at least tell me if Mrs. Drago is okay? Thorsten Drago’s wife—did she make it out? Is she hurt?”
“N”