Fortunately, he reacted quickly, and the fire was extinguished in moments. Still worried, he grabbed the fire extinguisher from the corner of the room and gave Zane Patterson a few more blasts.
The dry chemical powder billowed out, covering all traces of the scorch marks.
"Zane, are you okay?!" He tossed the extinguisher aside and pulled open Zane Patterson's clothes to check. Fortunately, it wasn't too serious—just some red, swollen skin and minor burns.
"It's fine, it's fine. Just a superficial wound, a superficial wound..." Sean Conrad's voice trembled, and it was hard to tell if he was trying to reassure Zane Patterson or himself.
Sean Conrad stared at Jett Westgate, his expression a mixture of shock and terror, and roared, "Jett Westgate! You actually fucking did it?! Are you insane?!"
He was genuinely terrified. He had only been faking being drunk on the sofa, hoping to skate by. He never imagined he would nearly witness his own brother being burned alive.
