Chapter 2: What the Second Man Left Behind
Sophie didn't sleep.
She sat at the kitchen table until 3 a.m., the brass key in her palm, turning it over and over.
The number 14 was worn but still clear.
Her father had held this same key.
Two nights before the fire that t00k him.
Helen refused to say more.
"Not tonight," she kept whispering.
"Please.
Not tonight."
But Sophie couldn't stop.
She pulled out her phone and searched: *Thomas Carter — warehouse fire — Chicago waterfront — 2009.*
The third result made her stomach drop.
The article was short.
Barely four paragraphs.
It called the fire an accident caused by faulty wiring.
Two workers had d*ed.
Thomas Carter was named.
The other man was not.
But someone had left a comment beneath the article — dated just six weeks ago.
*"The fire wasn't an accident.
Carter tried to warn them.
That's why he had to go."*
Sophie's hands were shaking when she scrolled to the username.
The account had been d3leted.
She looked up.
Helen was standing in the doorway, pale and very still.
"Mom.
Who was the second man in that fire?"
May you like
Helen pressed her hand flat against the doorframe.
"His name," she said quietly, "was Mercer."
