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At the main square.

Before I even realized I’ve stood up, I’m already halfway to the door. "I'm coming with you."

"No, you-"

I shake my head. "I've got friends in Kinstead. They live close to the square. I'm coming with you."

His shoulders sink as he realizes he’s not changing my mind.

"Okay." Erik rushes ahead. Once in the doorway, I stop. Ugh. All these hours of smelling deliciousness, only to leave not even a quarter into the meal. I shoot a longing glance back at the table.

But the feast can wait. Brooke and her animals probably can’t. Fuck, I hope they’ll be okay.

Oh right. Dick. I'll shoot Lauren a text on the way. I'm sure she’ll take care of him until I’m back or will bring him home once the celebration is done. She has a spare key for a reason.

“Fuck.” Erik comes to a standstill as soon as we're outside. "I have to leave the car for Aunt Molly." He runs his palm over his face.

"Where's your police cruiser?" I ask without breaking my stride and fumble my car keys out of my pocket.

"The station.”

I nod and unlock my car. Good thing Lauren sent me to buy last-minute groceries this morning, otherwise it’d be by my house. “Hop in, we'll make a stop there. We’d drive past it, anyway."

"Thanks."

As I'm driving, Erik is on the phone, trying to find out more about what happened and coordinate the response. I try to listen in, but I only hear bits and pieces I can’t make much sense of.

"The main square park is burning. Firemen are already there. So far, it's contained and not spreading to buildings," he lets me know in a rare moment he doesn't have his phone glued to his cheek.

"And they're positive they can extinguish it within the hour."

“Okay.” A small weight falls off my shoulders. I'm still anxious as fuck when he jumps out of my car and into his police cruiser.

Fuck.

Universe? You might have beef with me, but please, please let Brooke and her animals be okay.

Chapter 8

Brooke

"Oh God," I mumble, staring at the thick black cloud of smoke over Kinstead. It looks bad. It looks really bad.

"It will be fine," Evan tries to calm me down, but he’s white-knuckling the steering wheel, which is not at all reassuring. "If our buildings were on fire, the calls would have been a lot more panicked."

"You think?”

“Maybe.” He clears his throat and takes one hand off the wheel, making a fist and opening it to let the blood return to his fingers.

“Just because they weren't panicked when they called doesn't mean they're still okay," I object, my leg bouncing up and down.

“I know, but I’m trying not to freak out, okay? A little cooperation, please.”

“No promises.”

Fuck. I hope all the animals are okay. They’ve been traumatized enough.

Oh God, who will get them out if the flames get to the building after all?