Wings

A dozen minutes after I hung up with Jacob, the news came on. I'd been waiting for something specific today, and as soon as the broadcast started, exactly what I was expecting flashed on the screen.

"Kirstie Allen Dead in a House Fire," the headline read, bold and jarring. The news anchor detailed the tragic event.

Footage of her mansion, engulfed in flames, played on the screen. The fire was massive—thick smoke poured into the sky as firefighters worked to extinguish it. 

"Officials have confirmed that a body was found inside," the anchor continued. "The cause of the fire is suspected to be a faulty gas installation. The identity of the deceased is yet to be officially confirmed, but authorities believe it is the actress herself."

The images flickered between charred ruins and the smiling face of Kirstie Allen from her Hollywood days.

Charlotte turned to me slowly. "Is she okay?" she asked, her gaze searching mine.