Chapter 44

"You're joking, right?" My voice trembles as I search her face for any sign this is some cruel prank.

Elizabeth shakes her head, her expression somber, before handing me her phone.

"SOPHIA STERLING'S HOME DESTROYED IN FIRE HOURS AFTER REVEALING HOPE FOUNDATION LEADERSHIP."

I read the headline three times, my fingers tightening around the device. The words blur as I scroll down to the video—flames engulfing the familiar structure, smoke billowing into the sky.

My stomach lurches. No matter how much I deny it, the truth is undeniable. That was my home.

Heart pounding, I shove the phone back at her and bolt from the room, my movements frantic.

"Sophia, wait!" Elizabeth calls after me, but I don’t stop.

The world blurs as I race through the building, my pulse roaring in my ears. I barely register the faces around me as I burst outside.

Slamming into my car, I peel out of the parking lot just as Elizabeth reaches the doors. She waves frantically, shouting something I don’t hear. I don’t care.

My mind is chaos—rage and terror warring inside me.

Did I leave the stove on? I can’t remember. The uncertainty claws at me.

My phone buzzes—Ethan Blackwood’s name flashes on the screen. I ignore it. I can’t deal with him right now.

More calls follow—Daniel, Amelia, even Nathan and Victoria. I silence them all. Right now, I just need to see the damage for myself.

"Watch it, bitch!" A man yells, flipping me off as I swerve to avoid hitting him.

"Sorry!" I shout, but he keeps cursing. I don’t have time for this.

Twenty minutes later, I pull into my neighborhood.

The scene is chaos—police cars, firefighters, bystanders. I park and walk numbly toward the wreckage.

My breath catches. The flames still lick at the structure, though the firefighters are making progress. But it’s too late. There’s nothing left to save.

Tears sting my eyes. That house wasn’t just walls—it was home. Liam’s and mine. Every memory we’d built there was now ash.

Why is this happening? Haven’t I suffered enough?

"Sophia."

Ethan’s voice cuts through the haze. I turn to find him behind me, his expression unreadable.

"What are you doing here?" I wipe my face roughly.

At least no other homes were damaged. That’s the only silver lining.

"You weren’t answering your phone. I was worried." He steps closer.

I want to collapse into his arms, but I know better. That comfort isn’t mine anymore.

"I’m fine," I lie, turning away. There’s nothing left to do here.

I quicken my pace when I hear him following. I need to figure out where I’m staying tonight.

Sliding into my car, I think I’ve lost him—until the passenger door opens and he drops into the seat.

"What the hell?" I snap.

"You’re not driving alone like this." He buckles his seatbelt, jaw set.

"Get out."

He doesn’t move.

"Ethan, I swear to God—"

"Drive or we sit here all night. Your choice."

We glare at each other. Finally, I give in.

"What about your car?"

"Arthur can handle it."

I start the engine.

"Home," I whisper bitterly. "I don’t have one anymore."

"It’ll be okay."

"Will it?" My voice cracks.

Something tells me this is just the beginning.

I call my realtor, who answers immediately.

"Sophia, I’m so sorry—"

"I need a place. Now."

"I have one perfect for you."

Relief floods me. "Send the address."

As I hang up, Ethan speaks.

"You know I have properties you could use."

"No thanks. I don’t need your charity."

He mutters something under his breath.

Silence stretches between us, thick and uncomfortable.

"How’d you get so wealthy?" he asks suddenly. "Last I checked, your father cut you off."

I almost ignore him, but I realize what he’s doing—distracting me.

"I knew our marriage wouldn’t last," I admit. "I didn’t want a dime from you except for Liam. So I invested my savings into a startup—Tom’s Logistics. Everyone said I’d fail."

I smile faintly. "They were wrong."

His brows lift slightly.

"And after that?"

"I invested in other startups. Never lost money."

He looks impressed.

"I wanted to tell you when I made my first million," I continue, voice hollow. "But you made it clear you didn’t care."

The memory stings. The way he’d looked at me—like I was nothing.

Ethan swallows hard. "Sophia—"

"Save it."

The silence is suffocating.

His phone rings, breaking the tension.

"Gregory wants to see us at the station," he says after hanging up.

"Why?"

"About the fire. Now."

I turn the car around without another word.

The chief’s office is grim.

"Arson," Gregory says bluntly.

My blood runs cold.

"Someone tried to kill you, Sophia."

The words don’t fully register.

If I hadn’t met Elizabeth this morning… I’d be dead.

The realization hits like a punch.

How long can I keep escaping death before it catches me?