REMI HOOD

Chapter 21

Finn

Ryan is already in full smoke protection gear. He hands me a gas mask which is provided to us by the fire department. I carefully try to put it on, but it does not slide into my head, I struggle hastily, not giving up. Ryan and the rest of the task force give me funny looks.

You think you're having a bad time, Will? Think again.

I do my best to show no emotion as I keep my poker face. I continue my efforts, trying to get the damned thing on. Great, now I look like an idiot.

Hell, I'll show them how badass I really a-

"Finn, let me help." Ryan smiles and advances me. Immediately, I back away, which makes him jump a bit.

"No, I'm good. I can do it myself." I smile back and start to forcefully shove the mask, which ends up hurting a lot more than I expected, but I must tolerate the pain.

"Cool your jets, tough guy," he chuckles. "You gotta unhook the clasp first."

Ryan unfastens the belt on the back of my mask and slides it on my head smoothly.

Right, of course I had to do that.

"You know what they say," He bonks my head goofily. "Work smart, not hard."

"Yeah, whatever they say, lad." I jokingly roll my eyes and start walking towards the burned down house with him.

We step in the ruins. Pieces of everything seems to be everywhere, from furniture, to clothes, to decorations, all burned to shreds. Surrounding the debris are the thin frames of the walls, barely holding themselves together.

Holy shit, I can't imagine how Remi would react. There's not much left of this place at all.

"What did you say you found earlier?" I ask, observing the debris.

"This." Ryan kneels down and pulls out what looks like a glossy piece of paper. As he blows away the ashes, it crystalizes into a photograph of a few women.

"That's Anaya Ahmed in the middle," he says, pointing to someone on it. "everyone else in the picture was also murdered, plus, they knew Anaya."

I am intrigued. "Blimey," I stare at the photograph until something catches my eye. "Look."

On the bottom, there is a sentence written in another language, perhaps by a pen. "Is that in Dhivehi?"

Ryan's eyes widen. "Oh my, I didn't see that before, that's Anaya's handwriting!" he exclaims.

"You know her handwriting?"

"Yeah, we looked at her old records from her school," he explains. "from the 80s."

"Well, translator," I glance at him. "What does it say?"

He squints at the photograph. "It says... 'My beloved friends turned into cold enemies.' Strange."

I take a minute to think about this new information. Enemies???

"They must have got in a fight, it seems like Anaya wasn't too happy with these women as she wrote that on a picture of them," I conclude. "What if..."

"What if what?" he asks, concerned.

"Okay, it's a bit of a stretch, but," I take a deep breath. "What if she killed them?"

He blinks. "I don't see how that would be possible," he contemplates. "She was a victim of murder herself."

"Stay with me, Ryan," I assure. "What if she killed all of her 'enemies', and in the messy process, got herself killed too?"