 THE BOY WAS MISSING
When the piercing shriek of the emergency fire alarm tore through the opulent silence of the Vance estate, hundreds of high-society guests stampeded toward the grand mahogany doors.
Silk gowns brushed against expensive tuxedos as people screamed and pushed toward the exit.
Smoke began pouring from the west wing.
Everyone was trying to escape.
Everyone except Clara.
The twenty-four-year-old maid stood frozen near the dining room, still holding a silver serving tray.
Then she looked toward the staircase.
Something was wrong.
She couldn’t see seven-year-old Leo Vance anywhere.
Leo was the billionaire’s only son.
He was also sickly, frightened by loud noises, and rarely went anywhere without his father or one of the household staff nearby.
Clara scanned the crowd again.
Nothing.
Then she heard someone shout:
“Where’s Leo?”
Clara dropped the tray.
It crashed onto the marble floor.
Without thinking, she turned around and ran toward the smoke.
“Clara!” someone screamed behind her.
But she didn’t stop.
She knew exactly where Leo’s bedroom was.
And she knew the fire was spreading in that direction.
As everyone else fled the mansion, Clara ran directly into it.
