Klaire would later find out what happened that fateful night.

She went to bed, sleeping fitfully, worried mostly about Jess, who was worried about Sam. He would be coming home some time tonight. She'd gone to bed early, in hopes of sleeping away her fears.

She'd awoken to the sounds of sirens. And then came a phone call.

It was Angela – "Oh, my God, Klaire. Something's happened–"

She was talking so fast it was all Klaire could do to understand what Angela sputtered out.

"I got a call from Sam. He – he s-said – Oh, Klaire, it's horrible!" There was the sound of Angela crying over the phone, and Klaire was immediately alarmed.

"What is it?" she asked repeatedly before Angela could finally answer her through her sobs.

"Jessica's dead!"

The hours that followed were a blur – Klaire remembered being in front of the burning building. She remembered the ambulance, the firefighters. She recalled Sam standing by the trunk of a beautiful black Impala, a man Klaire thought to be his brother beside him. She remembered the trunk closing, remembered turning back to the building and watching as it burned with Angela.

She remembered hearing a car door slam, and she turned to see Sam getting into the car, tears in his eyes as he turned away from the remains of his home.

She recalled him driving away, never to be seen again.

She recalled watching her friend go up in smoke.

She recalled playing the end over and over again in her mind.

Don't worry, Jess.

I just have this awful feeling that something horrible is going to happen. I know it is. It's like I can feel it.

Don't worry, Jess.

I know it is.