Chapter Fifteen #2
“Damn it!” Priya said out loud. She was still trying to remember where Puppa kept the flashlight when the power surged back on.
Priya sighed. The blackouts were becoming more and more frequent. Even without the required upgrade, Moksha’s wiring was due for a complete overhaul. It would cost a small fortune, and she wasn’t convinced it was the right move.
Priya looked at the address book in her hands, and wondered if she should just say she couldn’t find it. It would buy her some time, but it also meant she’d need to move faster with her plan to get Ethan out of here.
A sudden sharp, sizzling buzz jolted her from her thoughts.
Priya froze, her eyes zeroing in on the old outlet powering the dehumidifier.
A wisp of smoke curled into the air, followed by the acrid smell of burning wires.
Within a second, a shower of sparks erupted from the socket, raining down on a cardboard box.
The embers caught, flickering for a moment before exploding into flames.
Priya’s pulse slammed into overdrive. Grabbing the trash can, she braced herself to smother the flames.
But then a thought crept in, insidious and undeniable.
What if I just…let it burn? What if this accidental fire is a blessing in disguise?
If Moksha went up in flames, her parents would have no choice but to walk away.
The developer didn’t want the building anyway, just the land. This fire could solve everything.
As the flames climbed higher, Priya’s gaze darted around the room.
Framed on the wall was the first Canadian two-dollar bill her father had earned, a relic from a time when two-dollar bills were still in circulation.
Beside it hung a photo from Moksha’s opening day, a garland of dried marigolds draped around it.
Priya’s gaze snapped to the shelf where a worn album held the only photos her parents had carried from India.
A studio portrait from her childhood sat on Puppa’s desk—Mumma, Puppa, her sisters, and a much younger version of herself, all lined up in stiff formality.
The smoke alarm shrieked to life as the room filled with a thick haze.
Heat pressed against Priya’s skin, but she hesitated, staring at the flames.
This wasn’t just a building. It was a house of stories, of lives, of history.
Every box, every file contained records of people who had been mourned, celebrated, and remembered here.
It was also a place of incredible hardship and restriction for her family.
Priya’s heart pounded as she stood rooted to the spot, caught in the push and pull between past and future, duty and freedom.
As the blaze intensified, something shifted within Priya.
The sense of responsibility her parents had tried so hard to impress upon her turned into gut-deep instinct—something sacred, something worth protecting.
Priya slammed the trash can down over the fire, but the flames shot out from beneath the edges, crawling along the baseboard like a living thing.
Priya staggered back, her nostrils stinging from the smoke. The curtain! Use the curtain! She seized a corner of the panel and yanked it hard. But before she could free it, a sudden sting flared up her leg.
“Fuck!” she gasped, glancing down in horror. Flames were creeping up the hem of her pants. She yelped and pulled them off, using the fabric to beat down the blaze.
But the smoke was winning. Hot, heavy, and pungent. Panic surged through Priya’s chest. I’m going to die trying to save the very place I want to escape.
Her breath came in short, frantic gasps. Her head spun, the room swimming in a hazy blur. Get down, her brain screamed, something she vaguely remembered from old fire drills.
Priya dropped to her knees, pressing herself to the floor. Where’s the door? She couldn’t tell, but she dragged herself forward, praying she was crawling in the right direction.
Somewhere behind her, wood crackled and split with a sharp pop. The fire was growing, its heat prickling against her skin. Beads of sweat slid down her neck. Priya coughed violently, her throat raw, her eyes burning so badly she could barely keep them open.
Then a sudden hiss. A cold mist exploded into the air, forcing back the flames around her. Priya blinked, tears rolling down her face. Through the haze, she saw Ethan, gripping a fire extinguisher as he fought the flames. Relief swept over her, and she collapsed onto the floor, limp and exhausted.
Ethan worked methodically, driving the fire back with each sweep. The flames sputtered and shrank until only small pockets of smoke remained. Tossing the extinguisher aside, he dropped to his knees beside Priya, his hands gripping her shoulders.
“Pri,” he called, his voice tight with worry. “Are you okay?” The alarm blaring around them couldn’t drown out the urgency in his tone.
Priya nodded, her breath coming in shallow bursts. Ethan let out a sharp exhale, relief flickering across his face. He shot to his feet and cranked the basement window open. Cool air rushed in, soothing Priya’s throat. Ethan’s gaze remained sharp, his body tense and on high alert.
“Damn it, Pri,” his voice cracked as he ran a hand down his face. “You scared the living hell out of me.” Sliding an arm under her, he helped her to her feet. “What the hell happened?”
Before Priya could answer, a loud snap echoed through the room and sparks leaped from another outlet.
“Don’t move! And don’t touch anything!” Ethan barked, grabbing the extinguisher and rushing toward the flare.
Priya’s head throbbed from the shriek of the alarm, the sound rattling her skull.
Her limbs felt heavy, her balance wobbly as she climbed onto the desk.
The room seemed to tilt, but she managed to wave a folder beneath the smoke detector.
Relief washed over her as the piercing noise finally stopped.
Ethan’s gaze snapped to her, his eyes narrowing. “Can you not do the opposite of what I just told you?” He rushed toward her, ready to help her down, and suddenly stopped in his tracks.
“What?” Priya frowned.
Ethan rubbed his eyes, blinked, and looked again. “Priya Solanki, are you standing bare-assed on your father’s desk?”
Priya quickly used the folder to shield her lady parts. “No,” she said. “I’m wearing nude underwear.”
Ethan bent down, plucked her scorched pants off the floor, and held them up between his fingers. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”
“Ethan,” Priya groaned.
“Relax, I’ve got you.” He ripped down the curtain that was now hanging askew and approached her.
“Don’t even think about coming any closer,” Priya snapped, pointing at him like a scolding teacher. His current trajectory would bring him face-to-face with her nether regions.
“Fine,” he conceded, holding the curtain out for her. “Not that I haven’t seen my fair share of ‘nude underwear.’ ”
“Turn around,” Priya instructed.
“Really?” Ethan raised an eyebrow, but he did as she asked.
Priya hopped off the desk, yanked her sweater down as far as it would go, and tied the curtain around her waist.
Ethan turned around, taking in her makeshift skirt, and his attention quickly turned to her ankle. “Is that a burn?”
“Just a sting.” Priya brushed it off. “It could’ve been much worse if you hadn’t shown up.” She felt like she’d been choking on the smoke forever, though she knew it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. The fire had spread fast, but Ethan had acted faster.
“I heard the smoke alarm and bolted over,” Ethan explained. “I remembered seeing a fire extinguisher by the stairs when your father was showing me around, so I grabbed it on the way in.”
“It started with that outlet.” Priya nodded toward the fried socket.
Ethan nudged the charred box with his boot, making sure no embers remained. “It’s under control, but we need to report it.”
“Let’s wait until I talk to Puppa,” Priya said. “Moksha’s already on thin ice. If they find out, Puppa might lose his license before the reno’s even started.”
“Fine. But we’re cutting the power until the contractors get here.”
“But that will shut down the power in the apartment too.”
“You’re staying with me.” Ethan left no room for debate. “There’s no way you’re entering this place until it’s safe again. Now let’s go turn the power off.”
He followed Priya to the electrical panel, an old box that looked one spark away from falling apart. Inside was a tangled mess of wires. Priya located the main switch and flipped it off. The metallic clack reverberated through the space before everything plunged into darkness.
“Come on.” Ethan took Priya’s hand and led her upstairs. As the light from his phone lit the way, Priya realized if she had succeeded in pushing him away, tonight would’ve been a disaster for both her and Moksha. She owed him her life.
Outside, Priya took a deep breath, welcoming the rush of cool air.
As she stood before Moksha with Ethan, it felt less menacing than before.
The windows that glowed like ever-watchful eyes were now extinguished.
But the shift wasn’t just in Moksha. Something inside her had changed too.
The fire had reframed the way she saw things, and no one was more stunned about it than she was.
“Come on. Let’s get you back to the coach house,” Ethan said, his arm wrapping securely around her.
Priya didn’t resist. She was too drained to argue, but there was something different in the way he held her now—steadier, more protective.
His body curved instinctively around hers, like he meant to shield her from everything outside this moment.
And his eyes, darker than usual and unreadably intense, made her pulse falter.
Had something changed in him too? Or was it just the fog of exhaustion playing tricks on her? Maybe. But as they walked together toward the coach house, Priya knew one thing for sure—she didn’t want to push Ethan away anymore.