Page 77 of Not Another Rockstar
“It’s not safe,” Axel argued. “This might be related to the fan mail—”
“I’m going. You can either get out or come with me.” Phoebe didn’t mean to snap, but she was on the verge of screaming or crying and wasn’t in any mood to argue.
Axel quietly sat back and zipped his lips. Phoebe’s hands shook, and he took her hand in his, nearly breaking her last thread of composure.
Twenty minutes feltlike twenty hours. The flashing emergency lights told her they’d arrived. At the busy scene, Phoebe hurried out of the car when she spotted Lena, wrapped in a blanket and talking with a firefighter. The rancid, burnt air forced her to stop short and stare at the busted gallery window and the blackened edges around it and the doors.
She walked into the ruined building. Axel didn’t try to stop her, but she felt him following.
“This can’t be happening…” Her lip quivered when she saw the charred canvases on the gallery floor.
The rustic gallery, with its low-hanging lights and high beams, was unrecognisable. Heat still radiated from the walls, and she tripped over a ruined canvas. She stared in shock at the ashen piles all over the floor.Are they mine?
“I’m sorry, but you can’t be in here, it’s not safe.” A firefighter placed his hand gently on her shoulder, startling her. He apologised, but she couldn’t speak as he guided her outside. Moving past the police and firefighters, her legs felt heavy, like she was wading through water. A small crowd had gathered by the fire engine and police car.
“Lena will have answers,” Axel said, resting a hand on her back. His calming voice broke her out of her trance. Unsure her legs wouldn’t give out, she followed him.
“We have your report. We’ll be in touch if we have any other questions,” the firefighter said to Lena before greeting them with a polite nod.
“Phoebe? You didn’t have to come! Tonight was your celebratory dinner. I was going to stop by once we were done here,” Lena said with a sad smile, but from her teary eyes, Phoebe knew she appreciated her coming.
“I had to come. I’m so glad you’re okay,” Phoebe stammered, smelling the smoke on her. “You didn’t tell me you were in the gallery when the fire started.”
Lena deflected, turning to the firefighter. “This is the artist—it was her work that was inside,” she said, like he needed to know. Phoebe figured the fire was more important than her art.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” the firefighter told her. It sounded ridiculous, considering the damage that had been done to the building and what could’ve happened to her friend.
“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Phoebe gave her a hug, and Lena sank into her like she needed it.
“I should’ve waited to call, but I was worried you’d find out from someone else.”
Lena looked ready to burst into tears when Phoebe released her. Phoebe glanced at the small crowd with their phones out and instinctively tried to move away from Axel, but he stayed glued to her side. She shot him a warning glance, but he refused to move without a word, so she gave in.
“How did this happen?” Phoebe asked, desperate for answers.
Lena took a deep breath before she started. Phoebe had never seen her so rattled. “The gallerist and I were trying to figure out the layout for the show. To see if we needed to make an interior change, and where we’d put the bar.”
“And?” Axel prompted impatiently. Phoebe nudged him; considering how shaken up her friend was, she was allowed to ramble.
Lena stared at their joined hands, distracted. She gave Phoebe a knowing look before getting back to her story.
“Something smashed through the window, and then everything was on fire,” she said. Her nails dug into her silky shirt as she crossed her arms. “It all happened so quickly. The gallerist has already left for the hospital to have her burns treated. She was closest to the window. Her arm got singed, but she’s okay.”
Phoebe’s heart pounded at the thought that someone had been seriously hurt. Had the gallery been targeted because of her? Her thoughts were cut off by the firefighter.
“From the shards we found, it was most likely a glass bottle filled with accelerant.” Behind him, his team were sealing off the building. “It explains why everything went up so quickly. The paints are flammable, which helped the fire spread. Your friend was lucky to get out with such minor burns.”
“You got burnt?” Phoebe’s legs went numb, looking at Lena like she was about to crumble into ash.
“Just my fingers. I tried to save at least one of your paintings, but it got so hot that I dropped it,” Lena said sadly.
“Oh my god, how could you put yourself at risk like that? A painting can’t replace you.” She wrapped her arms around Lena, afraid she could’ve lost her.
“But it’s all gone! I’m so sorry, Phoebe. I should’ve divided the collection, it was the last of your work.”
“Don’t apologise, you couldn’t have known this was going to happen.” Phoebe didn’t want Lena to blame herself for someone else’s evil actions, but thinking of the last of her finished pieces going up in flames made her heart ache. Now there was nothing left of her work from before the accident. Her hand screamed as she made a fist so tight she thought her nerves would fry.
“The gallery has precautions to protect work from fires and a sprinkler system, but given the violence of this type of arson, it was intended to harm and destroy,” the firefighter explained.
