Kate’s fear gave way to desperation. “So, what’s the plan, then? Let Simon go to jail for something he didn’t do, and kill me?”

Blaire had gotten a gleam in her eyes. “I’m not going to kill you. The fire will. Everyone knows how much you love candles. In fact, you keep forgetting to blow them out. No one will be surprised when you burn to death because of your carelessness. They may even think you did it on purpose. You’ve been acting pretty loco lately. Too bad I was out shopping when it happened. Between the Valium and the candles, you didn’t stand a chance. What a shame all the security is gone, and the staff left for the night—the ones you haven’t fired, that is.”

Kate looked around the room again, frantic. “You would really kill me? You’re not a murderer, Blaire,” she said, trying to focus.

“You’ve left me no choice.” Blaire took the poker and smacked Kate on the head. Dazed, Kate fell to the floor in agony. Blaire pulled a lighter out of her pocket and lit the two candles on the coffee table in front of her. Next to one of them she’d placed a tea towel. Knocking the candle over, she watched as the towel caught fire and then consumed the newspaper she’d spread on the table. The fire detectors were screaming now. But Blaire figured it would take the fire trucks too long to get to Kate in time, given how fast the fire was spreading.

“Bye, Kate,” she said, walking away.

“Blaire, no! Wait! Please help me,” Kate screamed. She tried to get up, but she kept losing her balance. She sat again, breathing deeply in and out, trying to focus. Think. She rose again, her legs wobbly under her. The fire was spreading now, engulfing the books and photographs. The smoke was filling the room so fast! She sank down onto her hands and knees as it closed around her. When the air in the room became too dense, she pulled her shirt over her mouth, coughing as she moved across the floor toward the hall, wincing as she dragged her leg behind her.

“Help me!” she croaked, though she knew there was no one around who would. She couldn’t panic. She had to try and quiet herself, preserve her oxygen.

She couldn’t die like this and leave her daughter alone. Simon was already in custody. Annabelle would be orphaned. The smoke was getting so thick that she couldn’t see more than a few inches in front of her. She felt the heat of the flames reaching out to consume her. I’m not going to make it, she thought. Her throat was raw, and her nose burned.