Abigail
The acrid stench of smoke hit me before the car even turned onto the street of Gina Wolfe's house.
Thick smoke fumes curled up in thin ropes sizzling into the sky. The smell was acrid, clinging to the back of my throat as Connor drove us closer to the burning mansion.
"He's insane," Finnegan hissed through his teeth, his eyes wide at the sight of his mother's home burning. His knuckles were clenched so tightly they were white.
The sound of the engine roaring to a halt, the car tires squealing against wet pavement filled the air and Finnegan immediately lunged out of the car.
There wasn't much left of the grand Victorian mansion. It was now a blackened skeleton, flames still licking at the upper windows despite the deluge of water the firefighters were pouring onto it.
Red and blue lights from their fire fighting truck flashed around the place. I followed after Finnegan sighing. Devin and his mother were truly dramatic.
