Love Ablaze

"Momma, where are you?" Paige's weak voice crackled through the phone's speakers, trembling with fear.

Joana gripped the steering wheel tighter, her heart pounding. "I'm on my way, baby. Just take deep breaths," she replied, trying to keep her voice calm, though her mind was filled with worry.

She drove as fast as she could without drawing the attention of the police. Every second felt like an eternity, and just when she thought she was making good time, she came across a red light. It felt like a cruel joke, as if the universe was conspiring against her.

The traffic light seemed to mock her, taking a really long time to turn green. Joana drummed her fingers on the steering wheel anxiously, her eyes darting between the traffic light and the road ahead. Finally, when the light turned green, she stepped on the gas pedal.

Joana's hands shook as she parked the car and sprinted into the house. "Paige, I'm hom..." Her voice caught in her throat when she saw a pair of panties on the sofa.

She approached slowly, her heart sinking with each step. The panties were pink, a color Joana never wore, and it was far too large to belong to Paige.

Heavy footsteps thudded on the stairs behind her, and Joana turned to see a naked woman bolting down the steps. Joana's eyes widened in shock as she recognized the woman, Martha, her sister.

James, her husband, appeared on the stairs, chasing after Martha. The color drained from his face when he saw Joana standing there, frozen in disbelief.

"Jo-joana, it's n-not what it looks like," James stuttered, but Joana barely heard him. The cliche excuse only fueled her anger, but she couldn't deal with it now.

"PAIGE!" Joana shouted, pushing past the two of them as she raced upstairs. Her daughter needed her, and that was all that mattered.

She burst into Paige's room, only to find it empty. Panic was all she felt as she screamed, "PAIGE! WHERE ARE YOU?"

A weak grunt from the far side of the room caught her attention. She rushed over and found Paige wedged between the bed and the wall, her tiny body limp and unmoving.

"M...Mom..." Paige mumbled weakly before her eyes fluttered shut, succumbing to the pain.

.

.

.

The call had come out of nowhere, leaving Joana wondering where James was and why he couldn't help their daughter. She had assumed he had gone out to get an inhaler, but after Paige's second frantic call, Joana grew suspicious.

James was always attentive to Paige's needs, never leaving her without checking that she had her inhaler. But now, as Joana watched her daughter being wheeled into the hospital, she wished she had driven faster, ignored that damn red light, and not wasted precious moments confronting the traitors in her living room.

"You can't come in," a nurse said, blocking Joana from entering the ICU. Helpless, she sank into a chair in the lobby, her mind racing with worry.

"Joana?" A familiar voice called out. It was Regina, her friend and a doctor at the hospital. "What are you doing here?"

Joana tried to speak, but her voice was lost in a torrent of tears. "Is it Paige?" Regina asked softly. Joana nodded, and Regina pulled her into a comforting hug.

"She's going to be fine," Regina assured her. "The doctors are doing their best."

"But what if their best isn't enough?" Joana whispered, her voice breaking.

Regina had no answer, so she just held her friend tighter.

Hours passed, but James never showed up. Regina called Joana's parents to come to the hospital, knowing Joana needed their support. When Mrs. Cameron arrived, she immediately sensed something was wrong. This wasn't the first time Paige had been in the hospital, but something felt different.

"Where's James?" Mrs. Cameron asked. Mr. Cameron, too, noticed his son-in-law's absence.

"Shouldn't he be here?" he added.

"Where's Martha?" Joana asked instead, her voice edged with bitterness.

"She left this morning and hasn't been home since," Mrs. Cameron replied, puzzled by Joana's question.

"Of course, she hasn't," Joana muttered, her tone cold.

Before her parents could question her further, the hospital doors swung open, and in walked James and Martha, both looking disheveled and guilty.

"Look who finally decided to show up," Mr. Cameron said, directing his question to James. "Where have you been?"

"Sleeping with your whore of a daughter," Joana snapped, her voice laced with venom.

The room fell silent as the shocking revelation sank in. Mrs. Cameron's face paled. "What?" she whispered in disbelief.

"You heard me. Your daughter has been sleeping with my husband," Joana said, her voice shaking with anger.

Mr. Cameron collapsed into a chair, his hands trembling. "Tell me she's lying, Martha. Tell me it's not true!"

But instead of denying it, Martha broke down in tears. "I'm sorry, but we love each other," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joana stared at her sister, disgusted. "In love? With your sister's husband?" she spat.

James stepped forward, his voice pleading. "I'm really sorry, Joana. Everything just happened so fast."

Joana's hands itched to slap him, but before she could act, the head doctor emerged from the ICU, his expression grave.

"How's Paige? Is she going to be okay?" Joana asked, her voice trembling with hope.

The doctor hesitated, then looked at her with pity. "I'm very sorry. We did everything we could, but..."

Joana's breath caught in her throat. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The doctor sighed deeply, his voice filled with regret. "We lost her."

The days following Paige's death felt like a never ending nightmare for Joana. Each morning, she woke up hoping that it was all just a bad dream, only to be struck by the harsh reality that her daughter was really gone. She spent her days in a state of grief, barely eating, barely sleeping, with tears constantly crying her eyes. Everywhere she turned, there was something to remind her of Paige, her favorite toys, the drawings she'd made, the sound of her laughter echoing faintly in Joana's mind.

The house that once felt warm and alive was now cold and silent, the absence of Paige's presence an unbearable void.

When the day of the funeral arrived, Joana moved through it like a ghost, her emotions drained after a week of nonstop crying. Family and friends gathered around her, offering their condolences, but their words felt empty. "Accept my condolences," they said, but Joana barely heard them. All she could focus on was the small coffin in front of her, a cruel reminder that her little girl was truly gone.

She stood beside the coffin, her fingers lightly tracing the outline of the wood. "Why did you have to leave me so soon?" she whispered, her voice trembling. She reached out to stroke Paige's cheek one last time, her touch tender and filled with sorrow.

"That's enough, Jo," Gina's voice broke through Joana's daze. Her friend's hand was gentle as she pulled her away from the coffin. Gina had always been the strong one, the one who knew what to say, but even she was struggling to find the right words. "I'm sure Paige wouldn't want to see her mom like this," Gina said, trying to comfort her friend, though she knew it was a nearly impossible task.

Joana nodded slightly, her eyes still fixed on the coffin. "Any sign of James?" she asked, her voice barely higher than a whisper. Despite everything, she had hoped he would at least show up for their daughter's funeral. But there was no sign of him.

The moment came for Paige's coffin to be lowered into the ground, and Joana felt as if her heart was being buried along with her daughter. The finality of it all hit her like a wave, and the tears she thought she run out of came rushing back. She couldn't stop them, couldn't stop the sobs that shook her entire body as she watched the coffin disappear in the ground, knowing she would never see her daughter again.

The burial rites ended, and people began to leave, returning to the comfort of their homes and the lives they had to continue living. Joana, however, returned to a house that now felt like a prison of memories. Every room echoed with the absence of her daughter, every corner a reminder of what she had lost. Gina stayed by her side, refusing to leave her friend alone in such a dark time.

Without Paige, the house felt unbearably empty. The silence was deafening. James had not returned home since that terrible day, and Joana's parents informed her that Martha had also disappeared, not having returned home since she left the hospital.

"It's probably for the best," Joana thought, trying to convince herself. The anger that simmered inside her at the thought of seeing James and Martha again was like a storm she wasn't ready to face. She didn't know how she would react if she ever saw them again, but she knew it wouldn't be pretty.

"So, what are you going to do now?" Gina asked gently, her voice filled with concern.

Joana's response was firm, though her voice was still fragile. "Now, I file for a divorce."

Gina nodded, understanding completely. She didn't need to say anything more. She knew Joana's decision was the right one, and she was ready to support her friend no matter what. If she were in Joana's shoes, she would have done the same.

"I know a good divorce lawyer," Gina offered after a moment. "He helped my neighbor get a divorce and keep half of her husband's assets. He's sharp and tough exactly what you need right now."

Joana wasn't interested in James's money or assets, but she was very interested in making him pay for the betrayal that had shattered their lives. "How do I get in touch with this lawyer?"

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A week later, a sleek red car pulled up in front of an old, worn-down building. Joana stepped out, her heels clicking against the cracked pavement. She wore a striking red dress, its bold color a stark contrast to the drab surroundings. Removing her sunglasses, she scanned the building with a look of disdain.

"Why would a top-notch lawyer work in a place like this?" Joana muttered under her breath, feeling a pang of doubt. She pulled out the business card from her purse, double-checking the address. It was correct, but that didn't make her any less skeptical.

With a sigh, Joana shoved the card back into her purse and walked into the building. The interior was just as unimpressive as the outside-dimly lit, with peeling wallpaper and a faint musty smell. As she approached the reception desk, she noticed the receptionist was fast asleep, her head resting on a pile of papers.

Joana's brow furrowed in disbelief. "Excuse me!" she called out, tapping the desk to wake the receptionist.

The young woman jolted awake, her eyes wide with surprise. "I'M UP! I'M UP!" she exclaimed, quickly wiping drool from her face and brushing off a few crumbs from her cheek. "How may I help you?" she asked, trying to regain her composure.

"I'm here to see Lawyer Reid," Joana replied, her tone cool and distant.

"Oh, he's in his office," the receptionist, who Joana now saw was named Lacy according to her nametag, said. Lacy quickly stood up and led Joana to the second floor, where Lawyer Reid's office was located.

The door to the office was slightly ajar, and Lacy gave Joana a hesitant smile before pushing it open. The room inside was dark, the only light coming from a small lamp on a cluttered desk. Lacy gestured for Joana to enter, but Joana hesitated, her instincts telling her to be cautious.

"Hello? Mr. Reid? Are you there?" Joana called out, her voice echoing in the darkness.

"Welcome. I've been expecting you," a deep voice replied from the shadows.

Joana took a step back, her heart pounding in her chest. The voice seemed to come from the center of the room, but she couldn't see anyone. For a moment, she considered turning around and leaving, but something compelled her to stay.

"You have?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. As soon as she spoke, the lights flicked on, revealing the room in full detail.

The space was surprisingly elegant, a stark contrast to the rest of the building. The walls were lined with bookshelves, filled with thick legal volumes, and the furniture was polished and expensive-looking. The paintings on the walls were tasteful, adding a touch of sophistication to the room.

At the center of it all was a large, mahogany desk, covered with paperwork. Behind it sat a man with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, his gaze sharp and focused. He looked up from his work as Joana entered, offering her a slight smile.

"Mr. Reid?" Joana asked, still feeling a bit unsure.

"Yes, Ms. Cameron," he replied, standing up and extending a hand. "I'm Arthur Reid. Please, have a seat."

Joana took his hand, shaking it firmly before sitting down. Despite her initial doubts, there was something about this man that instilled confidence. Maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of the end of her nightmare.

Joana sat across from Arthur Reid, feeling a mixture of anxiety and determination. His office, now illuminated, felt less intimidating, but the weight of her purpose kept her on edge. She hadn't had time to process everything, Paige's death, James's betrayal, Martha's deception. It was all too much, too fast. But one thing was clear: she needed justice, and she needed it now.

Arthur leaned back in his chair, his eyes studying her with a quiet intensity. He was handsome in a way that was both effortless and striking, with sandy blonde hair that framed a face marked by years of experience. His presence was calm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside Joana. Despite the chaos of her life, she couldn't help but notice the way his blue eyes softened when he looked at her.

"So, Ms. Cameron," Arthur began, his voice smooth and measured, "tell me exactly what happened."

Joana hesitated, gathering her thoughts. She felt vulnerable, exposed, but there was something about Arthur's gaze that made her feel safe, as if he was the only one who could help her through this nightmare. "It started when I got a call from my daughter, Paige," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "She was struggling to breathe, and I rushed home as fast as I could. But when I got there, I found..." Her voice faltered, and she had to pause, blinking back tears. "I found my sister, Martha, naked in my living room. James was there too, and it was clear what they'd been doing."

Arthur's expression remained neutral, though his eyes flickered with something unreadable-anger? Sympathy? Whatever it was, Joana felt a small surge of warmth, knowing he was on her side. "And Paige?" he prompted gently.

Joana swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion. "I found her upstairs, barely conscious. She was trapped between the bed and the wall. I tried to help her, but... by the time we got to the hospital, it was too late." She couldn't stop the tears from slipping down her cheeks. "I lost her. I lost my little girl."

Arthur's gaze softened even further, and for a moment, Joana thought she saw a flicker of pain in his eyes, as if her suffering had somehow touched him deeply. "Ms. Cameron," he said, his voice dropping to a tender whisper, "I'm truly sorry for your loss. But to build a case against your husband, we need more than just the affair. We need evidence that his actions-or inactions-led directly to Paige's death."

Joana's eyes widened in realization. "You mean... I need to prove that James is responsible for Paige's death?"

Arthur leaned forward, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. "Yes. If we can establish that James neglected your daughter's needs, or that he intentionally failed to help her when she was in distress, then we have grounds for a much stronger case. But we need evidence. Something solid that can't be dismissed or ignored."

Joana's mind raced. Evidence. What could she possibly have that would prove James's culpability? Then it hit her-the security cameras. James had installed them throughout the house for protection. They had been recording everything that happened inside the house.

"There are security cameras in the house," Joana said, her voice filled with a new sense of urgency. "They record everything. If James was with Martha when Paige needed help, it would be on those tapes."

Arthur's eyes lit up with interest, a spark that made Joana feel a flicker of something-hope, maybe, or something more. "That could be exactly what we need," he said, his tone serious. "But you need to act quickly. If James realizes what you're up to, he might try to destroy the evidence."

Joana nodded, already standing up. "I'll go get the footage right now," she said, her determination overpowering the grief that had been consuming her for days.

Arthur stood as well, moving around the desk with a surprising swiftness. He reached out, gently taking her hand in his. The touch was brief but electric, sending a shiver up Joana's spine. "Be careful, Joana," he said, his voice low and sincere. "If James knows you're gathering evidence against him, there's no telling how he might react. Make sure you're not followed, and if you sense any danger, leave immediately and call the authorities."

Joana nodded again, feeling a rush of something she hadn't felt in a long time-trust. "Thank you, Arthur," she said, using his first name for the first time. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Arthur gave her a reassuring smile, his hand lingering on hers for just a moment longer than necessary. "I'll be here," he promised, his voice carrying a warmth that made Joana's chest tighten. "Good luck."

With that, Joana left the office, her mind whirling. The drive home felt like an eternity, the city's lights blurring as she sped down familiar streets. Despite the urgency, her thoughts kept drifting back to Arthur-his steady presence, his reassuring touch, the way his eyes seemed to see right through her defenses. There was something about him, something she couldn't quite place, but it made her feel safer, stronger.

When Joana finally arrived home, a sense of unease washed over her. The street was too quiet, the house too dark. She quickly parked her car and hurried to the front door, her hands trembling slightly as she fumbled with the keys.

The moment she stepped inside, the smell hit her-smoke. It was faint, but unmistakable, clinging to the air like a warning. Joana's heart pounded as she rushed toward the living room, where the security system was set up.

What she found was worse than she had imagined. The small cabinet where the security equipment was stored was charred black, the contents inside reduced to ashes. The camera, the hard drive-everything that could have held evidence of James's betrayal and negligence was destroyed.

"No..." Joana whispered, falling to her knees in front of the smoldering wreckage. She reached out, touching the burnt remains, her fingers coming away covered in soot. "No, no, no..."

Her mind raced as she tried to comprehend what had happened. Someone had been here-James, it had to be him. He must have realized what the cameras could reveal and come back to destroy the evidence. He was covering his tracks, erasing any proof that could incriminate him.

Joana felt a wave of panic rising within her. If James had been here, what else had he done? Her eyes darted around the room, searching for any other signs of tampering. But as she scanned the room, something else caught her attention-a flicker of light coming from the hallway.

Joana's heart pounded in her chest as she slowly stood up, her body trembling with fear. She moved toward the hallway, the flickering light growing brighter with each step. When she reached the end of the hall, the source of the light became horrifyingly clear.

The kitchen was on fire.

Flames licked up the walls, the orange and red glow casting eerie shadows across the room. The fire was spreading quickly, consuming everything in its path. The heat was intense, and the smoke was thick, making it hard to breathe.

Joana's first instinct was to grab the fire extinguisher, but it was too late. The fire was too far gone, and the extinguisher wouldn't be enough to stop it. She needed to get out-now.

She turned and ran back down the hallway, her heart racing as the flames followed, creeping closer with every second. The house was filling with smoke, making it difficult to see, but Joana didn't stop. She pushed through the fear, the panic, knowing that if she didn't get out, she wouldn't survive.

As she reached the front door, she glanced back one last time, seeing the flames engulfing the living room, the heat almost unbearable. The house...her homewas being destroyed, just like her life had been. But there was no time to mourn, no time to think. She had to survive.

Joana burst out the front door, gasping for fresh air as she stumbled onto the front lawn. She turned to watch as the fire consumed the house, the flames roaring as they devoured everything she had once cherished.

She fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face as she watched her world burn. Everything was gone, the evidence, her memories, her home. All of it, destroyed in an instant.

But even as the fire raged, Joana knew one thing for certain, this was no accident. James had done this. He had taken everything from her, and now he was trying to erase any trace of his crimes. But Joana wasn't going to let him get away with it. She would find another way to prove the truth, no matter what it took.