Chapter 28 - Fire on the Roof
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Two weeks after purging the boardroom, the final remnants of Arthur Vance’s old network made one last, desperate attempt to strike back.
It was a rainy Tuesday night when my phone chimed with an urgent security alert.
"Director Sterling!" Sarah Lin yelled through the speaker. "The Greenwich domestic violence shelter—the main facility funded by the Elena Sterling Foundation—is on fire! Arsonists just threw incendiary devices onto the roof!"
My blood ran cold. "Are the women and children inside?"
"Emergency teams are evacuating, but two staff members are trapped on the upper floor!" Sarah panicked.
"Get my car!" I ordered, sprinting out of my office.
Twenty minutes later, my black SUV pulled up to the burning facility in Greenwich. Flames leapt into the night sky, billows of black smoke pouring from the upper windows. Fire trucks and emergency vehicles surrounded the scene, sirens blaring.
Ignoring the warnings of the fire chief, I grabbed a wet blanket from a paramedic truck and wrapped it around my shoulders.
"Ma'am! You can't go in there!" a firefighter yelled, trying to grab my arm.
"That is my foundation, and those are my people!" I shouted, tearing myself free and sprinting into the burning foyer.
The heat was suffocating, smoke burning my eyes and lungs. I ran up the scorching stairwell, calling out: "Is anyone here?!"
"Help! Over here!" a faint voice called from behind a jammed office door.
I grabbed a heavy fire extinguisher from the wall and slammed it against the door handle with all my strength.
CRACK.
The door burst open. Two young women were huddled near the window, coughing violently.
"Follow me!" I yelled, pulling them through the smoke.
Together, we burst out through the front entrance just as the upper roof collapsed in a shower of sparks. The crowd of onlookers and rescued survivors erupted into wild cheers as paramedics rushed forward to cover us in emergency blankets.
I stood in the rain, drenched in water and ash, looking back at the burning building.
A news camera crew rushed toward me, pointing a microphone at my face. "Director Sterling! Your shelter was destroyed! What do you have to say to those responsible?"
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I looked straight into the camera lens, my eyes burning with unstoppable fury.
"You can burn down a building," I declared to the millions watching live across the nation. "But you cannot burn down an empress. I will rebuild this shelter tomorrow—ten times bigger, ten times stronger!"
