The fire was still burning.
Even as the flames began to lose their height under the relentless pressure of water, the damage had already been done.
Eileen’s studio—
Her work.
Months of effort.
Gone.
Reduced to smoke, heat, and charred remains.
But Eileen didn’t cry.
Didn’t panic.
Didn’t break.
She stood at a distance, one arm folded lightly across her...