Chapter 3 - The Men Who Tried to Burn My Bakery Didn't Know I Had Spent Twelve Years Learning How to Fight FireThe fire spread quickly.
Smoke filled the bakery.
Vincent grabbed my hand.
“Move.”
We crawled through the kitchen.
I opened the emergency exit.
Cold air hit my face.
We stumbled outside.
Three vehicles waited across the street.
Men were loading weapons.
Vincent pulled me behind the building.
“How many exits?”
“Two.”
“Other one?”
“Blocked.”
He looked at the flames.
“Any water?”
“Fire suppression system.”
“Can you activate it?”
“Yes.”
“Then do it.”
I ran back inside.
The sprinkler system activated.
Water exploded from the ceiling.
The fire weakened.
Vincent stared.
“You knew that would work?”
“I installed it myself.”
“Of course you did.”
We escaped through the front.
The attackers had disappeared.
But one man remained.
Jamie.
He was tied inside a van.
I ran toward him.
Vincent stopped me.
“Trap.”
Jamie shouted:
“Nora!”
The van exploded.
I screamed.
Vincent pulled me backward.
The blast knocked us both to the ground.
When I opened my eyes, Vincent was covering me.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
He rolled away.
“You?”
He looked at his shoulder.
Blood.
“Fine.”
“You're lying.”
“Yes.”
I helped him stand.
Then we found something in the wreckage.
A photograph.
My bakery.
Taken from across the street.
On the back:
THE BAKER KNOWS TOO MUCH.
I stared.
“Knows what?”
Vincent didn't answer.
I turned toward him.
“You know something.”
He sighed.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“The men who attacked me weren't trying to kill me.”
I frowned.
“They cornered you with twelve guns.”
“They wanted me alive.”
“Why?”
“Because they wanted me to tell them where something was.”
“What?”
He looked at me.
“A ledger.”
“What kind?”
“The kind that can destroy half the city.”
I stared.
“Why would they think I know where it is?”
“Because they believe you inherited it.”
“From who?”
Vincent didn't answer.
Then my mother called.
I answered.
Her voice trembled.
“Nora?”
“Mom?”
“Don't come home.”
My stomach dropped.
“Why?”
“Someone is here.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
A man spoke in the background.
Then my mother screamed.
The phone went dead.
Vincent looked at me.
“What happened?”
“They took my mother.”
May you like
His expression hardened.
“Now they're making it personal.”
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