**“I FOUND LUCAS’ ENGAGEMENT RING IN HEATHER’S PURSE AFTER SHE BEGGED ME TO SAVE HER PARENTS’ HOUSE.”**
I tore through her leather bag—the one I’d gifted her last Christmas—while smoke from the wildfire gnawed at the edges of the living room window. Her voice shrilled behind me: “Stop!” The purse reeked of her vanilla perfume and something sharper, like burnt plastic. My fingers closed around the velvet box. Inside, the emerald halo ring glinted, still smudged with flour from the bakery where Lucas proposed to me three weeks ago.
Her hand clawed at my wrist. “You don’t understand—he *forced* me to take it!”
The ceiling fan groaned overhead, its chains rattling as ash settled on my tongue. I stared at the charred family photos on the wall, her parents’ faces melting behind cracked glass. She’d begged me to rescue those photos first.
“Forced you?” I hissed, clutching the ring until its prongs bit into my palm. “Or just paid you?”
The flames hissed louder, swallowing the porch outside. Heather’s eyes flicked to the hallway, where Lucas’ shadow lurked beside the antique grandfather clock—the one he’d vowed to restore for our future cottage.
My phone buzzed. A text lit the screen: **“Run. The fire isn’t the only thing he rigged.”**
👇 Full story continued in the comments…I looked up, my eyes snapping from the glowing screen to Lucas’s shadow. It stretched long and distorted against the wallpaper, seeming to ripple in the heat haze that now shimmered through the room. He stepped fully into the light of the burning hallway, his face impassive, almost serene. “Don’t be dramatic, Sarah,” he said, his voice calm, chillingly detached from the inferno outside. “It’s just insurance.”
Heather let out a strangled whimper, shrinking back against the wall. “Lucas, you can’t—”
“Can’t what?” He smiled then, a cold, predatory expression I’d never seen directed at me before. “Can’t ensure I walk away from this mess cleanly? Can’t make sure all loose ends are tied up?” He gestured vaguely around the room. “This house was doomed anyway. The fire just… accelerated things. And made it look like a tragic accident.”
The smell of gas, faint at first, hit me then, mixing sickeningly with the smoke and vanilla perfume. *Gas.* That was it. Not just rigging the fire, but rigging the house *to* burn completely, *to* trap anyone inside. My heart hammered against my ribs.
“You… you did this?” I whispered, staring at him, the ring in my hand forgotten for a second. “You led us here, into a burning house you rigged?”
“ collateral damage,” he shrugged, his gaze settling on Heather. “She was useful, for a price. You were just… inconvenient.” He took a step towards me. “Hand it over, Sarah. No need for anyone to get hurt worse than they have to.”
Heather lunged forward suddenly, grabbing my arm. “Sarah, run! Get out of here! He’s blocking the back door, too!”
“Traitor,” Lucas snarled, raising a hand towards her.
Instinct took over. I shoved the ring deep into my pocket, the velvet box a hard knot against my thigh. I yanked Heather towards the front window, the one facing the street, now a terrifying orange canvas. “The window! We can break the window!”
Lucas was on us in an instant. He grabbed Heather’s arm, twisting it. She cried out. I swung the heavy leather purse, the one I’d gifted her, with all my might. It connected with the side of Lucas’s head with a satisfying thud. He staggered back, releasing Heather, swearing.
The heat was unbearable now. Flames licked at the window frame. Ash rained down from the ceiling. Heather was scrambling for something on the floor – the heavy brass poker from the fireplace. She snatched it up, her face streaked with soot and tears, and swung wildly at Lucas who was recovering.
“Go!” she screamed at me, gesturing towards the window with the poker. “Get out! I’ll keep him busy!”
I hesitated, looking from her desperate face to Lucas, who was circling her warily. The gas smell was strong now. Any spark, any collapse, and this room would explode. I couldn’t leave her. But if I stayed, we’d all die.
With a sob, I turned and hammered the heel of my boot against the brittle glass of the living room window. It spiderwebbed, then shattered inwards, showering me with shards. Hot, smoke-filled air rushed in, bringing with it the roar of the fire.
“Sarah, NOW!” Heather shrieked.
I scrambled onto the sill, tearing through the remaining glass, cutting my hands. I looked back one last time. Heather stood defiant, the poker raised, facing Lucas who was advancing, his face a mask of fury. The flames were consuming the far wall. The grandfather clock groaned and crashed to the floor in a shower of sparks and wood.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself headfirst through the broken window, landing awkwardly on the burning grass outside. My clothes immediately began to smoulder. I rolled frantically, beating at the flames, scrambling away from the house as fast as I could, coughing and choking on the smoke.
I didn’t look back until I was twenty yards away, collapsed on the scorched ground, watching the house become a fireball. The roof caved in with a terrifying roar, sending a column of flame and smoke high into the already choked sky.
There was no sign of Lucas. No sign of Heather. Just the raging fire and the sirens wailing in the distance, too late to save the house, too late to save anything inside.
I sat there, numb, the taste of ash and betrayal on my tongue, the small, hard shape of the ring box pressing into my thigh. I had survived. But the cost was everything I thought I had, and maybe, the friend who had saved me. The emerald halo ring, meant for a future that would never exist, felt like a stone. And the warning text echoed in my mind – *The fire isn’t the only thing he rigged.* He hadn’t just planned to burn the house. He had planned to burn my life to the ground.