Fire Alarm!

I hardly have time to register that thought, much less puzzle through its implications, when the fire alarm begins screeching overhead.

Startled, I scramble for the door, and then I look back at the collection of papers sprawled over my bed. I need to keep these somewhere safe. Nowhere in this room is safe. I need to bring them to me.

There’s a banging at the door.

“Get out, get out, we need to evacuate!” one of the staff shouts.

I hurriedly stuff the envelope back up with all of the papers, clutching it tight as I burst out of the room a second later, coming face to face with one of the cleaning guys.

“This way,” he shouts, pointing down the corridor.

The sprinklers have gone off, showering us in water, and I can hear distant shouts as other people rush to exit the house.

We head to the nearest staircase, going down a floor, dashing through one room after another. As we run through beautifully upholstered rooms filled with furniture worth thousands, maybe millions in their collective, I can't help but wonder what the property damage is going to be. But Father must have the estate ensured, so even if it’s all lost in a raging fire—

Out of nowhere, just as I’m turning the corner, a sprinting woman crashes into me. We both fall to the ground. Dazed, I see stars for a second, the sprinkler water stinging my eyes, before I manage to find my feet again.

“Oh my god, so sorry,” Imelda mutters, getting up herself.

I don’t have time to say anything in response before she’s ran away, her jacket awkwardly hanging off her shoulders.

“You okay?” the cleaning guy asks, extending a hand to me.

I grab it, getting back up, rubbing my forehead.

“Yeah, think I’m good,” I say.

“Let’s get out, there’s an exit this way,” he says, and I know the way out too, but I follow him silently, trying to ignore the throbbing headache that I’ve got.

A minute later, we’re out in one of the back gardens, breathing in fresh air. We pick our way through a quaint stone path, heading for the big lawn in front of the mansion, which is where the cleaning guy says we’re supposed to gather in events like this. As we bustle down the path, we run into a bunch of the kitchen people.

“Think we’re going to get the day off, Martin?” one of them asks the cleaning guy next to me.

“Nah, I’m going to have to stay late to clean up the mess,” Martin sighs. “If there’s still anything to clean up afterwards…”

“There’s no way the house burns down,” I say. “The family’s got billions of dollars to their name. Least they could do is buy enough sprinklers to protect the building.”

“Yeah, but fire department’s quite a ways out,” Martin says. “If the fire catches and spreads quickly? Oh my, it’s not going to be pretty.”

I glance back at the house.

“No sign of smoke though,” I comment. “That’s a good sign.”

“We didn’t see any signs of fire,” one of the kitchen guys says.

“Neither did we,” Martin says.

“Guess it must have been one of the other wings,” somebody else chimes in.

We’ve circled over to the big lawn in front, where dozens of the staff have accumulated in front of the building. Salome and Hyerim stand to the side, both of them talking rapidly into their phones. Father is nowhere to be seen, but that’s because he’s currently wrapping up a business trip in Seoul. All the other members of my family are similarly out, too. My initial urge is to join the wives, but then I remember what I just read in that envelope, and I…

Wait. The envelope. I look down. It’s no longer in my hands.

What?

No… I scramble, mentally playing back the last few minutes in my head, trying to figure out what happened. But things are hazier than normal, courtesy of that head-knocking delivered from Imelda…

That’s it! I must have lost the envelope when she crashed into me. I curse softly, trying to remember if I dropped it, or if something else could have happened to it.

“Martin, did you see what happened to that envelope I was carrying?” I ask, tapping the cleaning guy on the shoulder.

He frowns.

“Envelope? What envelope?”

“The big manila thing I had when I left the room,” I say. “I think I dropped it when Imelda crashed into me, but…”

“I don’t remember seeing that,” Martin says. “You sure your head’s okay? Do you need to see a doc?”

“No, I definitely was carrying an envelope,” I say, and then I stare at him, narrowing my eyes.

He could be lying. Maybe he took the envelope after I fell to the ground, before I could notice. But then where could he have placed it? I stare back at Hyerim, wondering what’s going on. But she’s still talking on her phone. She hasn’t once looked back my way.

My mother was murdered, is all I can think, and now the one lead that I had is gone…

It occurs to me that the timing of everything, from the moment I picked up the envelope, to the fire alarm going off, to Martin who happened to just be passing my door, to Imelda crashing into me… might it all have been coordinated?

Should I be so paranoid?

My mother was murdered, I think to myself. Anything is possible.

And where is Imelda? I haven’t seen her anywhere, except… no, there she is, coming out of the woods in the north, and Sanchez has got an arm around her shoulder.

“How is Imelda coming out of the woods?” I ask Martin, pointing her out. “Didn’t she crash into me in the house?”

“Did she?” he asks, frowning more heavily. “There was a lot going on, but I think I would have remembered something like that… you sure you don’t need to see a doctor? I don’t know how your insurance works, but I’m sure the Najbreits will cover it.”

“No, no, she definitely crashed into me,” I say. I look over at him again, seeing the way he’s shifting from foot to foot. He’s trying to gaslight me. He’s going to be no help. “But you know what… maybe you’re right. I’m not even sure that happened…”

Martin looks relieved.

“Yeah, sometimes I imagine things too, when I’m under a ton of pressure,” he says.

I nod idly, pretending to be more dazed than I really am. Inside, however, I’m trying to put the pieces together in my head.

“I’m just going to sit by the grass over there,” I tell Martin, pointing to a private spot by some hedges. “I just need some space to clear my head.”