Page 161 of Rangers Last Promise

“People throw furniture in it.”

“Occasionally.”

“Last week.”

“It was a stool.”

Doc makes a sound.

I turn toward him.

His mouth is twitching.

“Was that a laugh?”

“No.”

“It was.”

“Smoke inhalation.”

“You're blaming smoke?”

“Seems reasonable.”

I grin.

Then the roof of Site Seventeen collapses.

The sound wipes the humor away.

Flames rise into the morning sky.

Fifteen years of evidence disappears with it.

Not all of it.

Wolf and Trigger saved one box.

Hampton saved two.

And I saved Grant.

I look down at the photograph still clutched in my hand.

My brother stands outside this building fifteen years ago.

Alive.

Smiling slightly.

He had no idea I would someday stand in the same place.

Or maybe he did.

Not this place.

Not this moment.