Chapter 8
The place was a ruin. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Michael had been hoping that perhaps the damage wouldn’t be as bad as Audrey made out, that maybe the man from the Glendora Fire Department had been exaggerating when he’d used the word “gone” to describe her house. Unfortunately, no exaggeration had been involved.
Tendrils of smoke drifted from the few bits and pieces of the frame that still stood. The chimney remained, an accusing finger pointed toward the sky — paint blasted away, black grime marring its brick surface. And he could see how most of the concrete foundation was intact. Everything else was just water-soaked timber and unidentifiable blobs here and there that might once have been pieces of furniture, or possibly appliances.
Audrey stood next to him, face w
