BROOKE SAT ON the curb, staring up at the flames. Dustin kept trying to put the oxygen mask over her face, while dabbing at a nasty cut on her arm that she’d managed to get from the rain gutter on her way down the ladder. She kept slapping the mask away, not taking her eyes off the house.

Where was he? Sam, Eddie and Aidan had all gone in after Zach and Blake. Why weren’t they—

Finally the door burst open and Sam and Aidan appeared, with Zach between them, Eddie just behind.

No Blake.

Shoving the blanket off her shoulders, Brooke went running toward them.

“Brooke,” Zach was saying to Isobel. “Where the hell’s Brooke?”

“Here,” she managed.

At the sound of her voice he whipped around. He still wore only his Levi’s. Dirt and ash were smeared over his chest and torso, blackening the bandages from the last fire he’d been in. He was bleeding from several cuts, as well, and couldn’t stop coughing. His eyes were wild, though they calmed at the sight of her as he hauled her into his arms.

“Blake?” she whispered.

Eyes revealing his misery, he shook his head. “We found the blowtorch, and his hard hat. Nothing else.”

Heart heavy, she hugged him tight, but she didn’t get to hold on to him for long. The scene was chaotic as all hell. Tommy appeared, and the chief, not to mention every rig out of their firehouse, plus too many police units to count.

Zach was pulled aside. “For questioning,” Aidan told her.

“He didn’t do anything wrong—”

“They know that,” he quickly assured her. “But with Blake gone—”

“Gone?”

“They didn’t find a body, but—” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. “But they expect to. There’s going to be an internal investigation. Zach wants me to take you to the hospital for stitches—”

“I’ve got her, you stay with Zach.” Dustin flanked her on one side, and Cristina was on the other, looking devastated over the news about her partner.

They took her to the hospital, where she received eight stitches and a tetanus shot. Exhausted and woozy, she let Dustin take her home, where she had a message waiting from her Realtor about the offer on the house.

Was she taking it?

Good question. She’d gotten her asking price. Didn’t that just put a nice neat bow on her life. The end of yet another era…

Dustin called in for an update. The fire was out; Blake was presumed dead. Cristina showed up with Thai takeout and a brown bag. The three of them sat around Brooke’s table, grimy and filthy, stuffing their faces.