Chapter 1

The smell of gas was the first warning.

It was faint, almost lost beneath the scent of birthday cake and the expensive perfume of Nicole' s political donors. I mentioned it to my wife, Nicole Chavez, as she floated through the crowd, a queen in her own home.

"I smell gas, Nicole," I said, keeping my voice low.

She waved a dismissive hand, her smile never faltering for the cameras. "It's probably just the new catering ovens, Ethan. Don't make a scene. This fundraiser is important."

Important. More important than the safety of the guests, more important than our daughter Lily' s sixth birthday, which this "fundraiser" was supposed to be celebrating. I was just the stay-at-home dad, the quiet husband of a rising city councilwoman. The man who gave up a star-making career in architecture so she could chase her mayoral dreams.

I saw Lily by the grand staircase, her eyes wide with the magic of it all. I started towards her, the scent of gas growing stronger, a cold knot tightening in my stomach.

Then came the explosion.

A deafening roar ripped through the house. The world turned into a storm of fire and splintering wood. Screams echoed around me, but all I could hear was a high-pitched ringing in my ears. I saw Lily, thrown back by the blast, her small form disappearing into the smoke and flames licking up the walls.

"Lily!"

I ran. I didn't feel the heat, the debris cutting into my skin. I just ran into the fire, my only thought to get to my daughter. I found her near the base of the ruined staircase, unconscious. I scooped her into my arms, turning to shield her with my body.

That' s when the second explosion hit.

A wave of pure force slammed into my back. The pain was absolute, a white-hot agony that consumed everything. The last thing I saw before the darkness took me was the beautiful, intricate ceiling I had designed for this house, now a gaping, black hole open to the night sky. My final thought was a prayer that Lily was safe.