Chapter 3
Walking to my car, I saw smoke rising in the distance. My house burning.
I slid into the driver's seat, hands still shaking. Took three tries to get the key in the ignition. Finally, the engine turned over.
In my rearview mirror, Caleb burst out of the church, still in that black tux. He was shouting my name, but I wasn't stopping. Not ever again.
I hit the gas and tore across town toward my house. The smoke got thicker with every mile.
Dad's photos. His letters. All our pictures together... If those burned up, I'd have nothing left.
When I pulled up to my street, the whole house was swallowed in flames. Fire trucks lined the curb, water shooting out in massive streams, but the fire was too big. Way too big.
I jumped out and ran toward the house. A firefighter grabbed my arm.
"Ma'am, you can't go there! Too dangerous!"
"It's my house!" I fought against his grip. "My dad's stuff is still inside!"
"Sorry, ma'am, but it's not safe. Fire's too intense. We're doing everything we can to contain it..."
"Vera!" Caleb's voice behind me.
I spun around. There he was, running over in that wedding suit, all rumpled and messed up now.
"You shouldn't be here," I said, voice flat as ice.
"Vera, just listen—"
"Listen to what?" I cut him off. "How you planned all this? How you lied to me for three years straight?"
Other firefighters were staring. People whispering. I knew what happened at the church would be all over town in an hour.
"Captain," a young firefighter walked over, "we've got the flames mostly controlled, but the inside..."
"Totally destroyed?" I asked.
He nodded. "Real sorry, ma'am."
I stared at the burned-out shell of the house Dad and I had shared for years. Nothing left but black bones and smoking ruins.
"What a shame," a familiar voice said behind me.
I turned to see Thea standing there. She'd changed out of the dress into jeans and a t-shirt, but she wore this satisfied smile.
"You!" I charged at her, but Caleb blocked me.
"You started this fire!"
"Prove it." Thea shrugged. "Got any evidence? Maybe God just figured the killer's daughter shouldn't have nice things."
People were gathering. Firefighters, neighbors, random passersby. Everyone staring with curiosity and suspicion.
"Thea, that's enough," Caleb said, voice low.
"Enough?" She laughed coldly. "I don't think so." She turned to the crowd, raising her voice. "Everyone, let me tell you more details. Richard Sinclair didn't just set a fire. He knew my parents were home, but he lit it anyway!"
"No!" I screamed. "That's not true!"
"Not true?" Thea pulled a document from her purse. "This is the police report. Says right here the Morrisons were asleep upstairs when the fire started. Richard Sinclair set the blaze and ran without warning anyone!"
More shocked murmurs from the crowd:
"Knew people were home and still torched it?"
"No wonder karma came for her..."
I felt dozens of eyes cutting into me like knives.
"You don't know what really happened!" I shouted, but my voice got lost in all the chatter.
Thea stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Vera Sinclair, this is just the beginning. Your father destroyed my family. I'm gonna make you pay the same price."
"Tell her, Caleb," Thea urged, turning to face him. "Tell her what you were really looking for when you found her."
Everyone looked at Caleb, waiting. I looked at him too, holding onto one last thread of hope.
Caleb met my eyes, pain and guilt written all over his face. "Three years ago. I found you while investigating my parents' deaths."
"So why'd you get close to me?" My voice shook.
Long silence.
"At first..." Caleb struggled with the words. "At first I wanted you to pay for what your father did."
More whispers from the crowd. I could barely breathe.
"But then I fell in love with you," Caleb added quickly.
"Love?" I laughed bitterly. "What did you love? The thrill of watching your enemy's daughter fall for you?"
"No, Vera, I—"
"When were you gonna tell me the truth?" I interrupted. "After we got married? After I got pregnant? Or never—just let me live a lie forever?"
Caleb couldn't answer.
Thea smirked beside him. "He never would've told you, Vera. If I hadn't spoken up today, you might've spent your whole life married to a stranger."
I looked around at the crowd—neighbors I'd lived next to for three years. Mrs. Henderson from next door, who I'd helped take care of her sick mother. Tom from the grocery store, who always gave me discounts.
But now they all looked at me differently.
"I always thought she was weird," Mrs. Henderson whispered to someone. "So quiet, like she was hiding something."
"No wonder she never talked about family," Tom said. "Having a father like that."
Every word sliced through me. Three years of hard work, helping people, trying to fit into this town. All for nothing.
"I can't stay here anymore." I said it to myself, then announced louder: "I'm leaving this place."
"Vera, wait—" Caleb reached for me.
"Don't touch me!" I stepped back. "Caleb Morrison, we're done. Completely done."
I turned toward my car. Thea called after me: "Run away, Vera Sinclair! But you can't escape your father's crimes! No matter where you go, you'll always be the killer's daughter!"
I got in my car and started the engine. In the rearview mirror, I saw the crowd still pointing and talking, Caleb standing there looking miserable, and Thea wearing that smug smile.
I drove toward the town's only motel. The only place I could go.
The front desk clerk was this woman in her fifties named Linda. When she saw me, recognition flickered in her eyes.
"I need a room," I said.
"Single?" she asked, then paused. "Wasn't today your wedding?"
"Wedding's off."
Linda's expression got complicated—sympathy mixed with curiosity and maybe a little fear. Obviously word was already spreading.
"How much per night?"
"Eighty bucks. How long you planning to stay?"
"Don't know. Give me a week for now."
When she handed me the key, she said carefully, "I heard... something happened?"
I didn't answer. Just took the key and headed upstairs.
The room was tiny—just a bed, desk, and small bathroom. But at least it was quiet. No one staring or whispering.
I sat on the bed edge, looking at myself in the mirror. That awful makeup was still on my face, looking even more ridiculous now.
I went to the bathroom and started scrubbing my face. Cold water washing away the malicious cosmetics. But it couldn't wash away the pain and anger in my chest.
I thought I'd found a new life here. Thought I'd found love. But it was all fake from the start.
I pulled out my phone. Dozen missed calls from Caleb. A few text messages too.
I scrolled through them:
"Vera, let me explain."
"I know you're pissed, but please give me a chance."
"I don't care if you believe me or not—I really did fall in love with you."