violence that tightens my throat and makes it hard to breathe. My daughter will be okay—I tell myself this over and over—but Hunter will not. How will I tell her, when she wakes up?
Theo and I sit on the vinyl-covered couch against the wall. Vince and Gabrielle choose the one adjacent. Detective Gallagher picks up a chair and positions it to face us. There is a smooth economy to his movements that warns me to pay attention. Vince is on the other side of Theo, sitting safely back and out of view, but his knees protrude and I see he’s wearing his khaki pants, the ones with the ghostly outline of his wallet worn into the hip pocket and the torn belt loop. Don’t you dare go out front in those, I’d chide, and he’d merely grin, go into the office, and reemerge fifteen minutes later, clean-shaven, dressed immaculately in fresh khakis and a crisp chef’s jacket. I’d pat his cheek and wink.
“The fire marshal’s released a preliminary report,” Detective Gallagher begins. “We haven’t released this to the media, and I’d like you to keep it to yourselves for now.”
“Of course.” Theo nods, finding my hand, as Gabrielle says, “What? What does he know?”
“He found traces of accelerant in your daughters’ room. He’s ruling this an arson, pending further investigation.”
“ In our daughters’ room?” Theo says.
“The fire marshal believes it was the point of origin.”
Point of origin. It sounds like a horror flick, not this. Not my life. Not Arden’s. “Someone started a fire in their room?” Were they asleep? How did they let it happen?
“Is he sure it’s arson?” Vince says. “I mean, kids keep all kinds of crap in their rooms. Nail-polish remover, hairspray, cigarette lighters.”
“Rubbing alcohol.” I’d packed the first-aid kit myself and stowed it under Arden’s bunk bed.
“There’s a difference between a flammable liquid,” Detective Gallagher says, “and one that’s used as an accelerant and is intended to spread a fire quickly. We found accelerant everywhere in your daughters’ dorm room, the walls, the ceiling, the floor. The lab’s analyzing samples now. We should know exactly what was used shortly.”
“You’re saying someone wanted to hurt our children?” It’s crazy. It’s impossible. “They’re just kids. ” Two eighteen-year-olds who spent this past summer watching One Tree Hill and eating gummy worms. Gabrielle has her fingertips against her mouth, her eyes blank and stunned. I look to Theo. I want him to agree, to argue that this is all an insane mistake, but his face registers nothing. He’s processing, thinking. “How can we help?” he asks instead.
“Well, arson’s an unusual way to hurt someone. Often, it’s directed at property, but we don’t think that’s the case here. We believe this was a revenge fire, someone settling a grudge.”
“Revenge for what?” Vince sounds bewildered. “These are good girls. What sort of grudge?”
“Did either of them mention any trouble on campus? Maybe some kids the girls have had run-ins with?”
“Rory doesn’t have run-ins,” Vince says. “She gets along with everyone.”
It’s true. Rory’s always been surrounded by a laughing group of kids. They swarm to her. She’s never been afraid to put herself out there and speak her mind. It makes her the unquestioned leader, but it has a price. Back when the girls were in seventh grade, Arden had told me how Rory was being picked on. Don’t you dare tell Aunt Gabrielle, my daughter had ordered. It’ll only make things worse. And then more recently, Rory isn’t who you think she is. Her voice had been freighted with meaning and I’d stopped what I was doing to give her my full attention. What does that mean? I’d asked, but she’d just shrugged.
“It’s a big campus,” Detective Gallagher says.
“Rory would have told us if there’d been a problem,” Vince insists.
Detective Gallagher looks to me, light reflecting off the
Theo and I sit on the vinyl-covered couch against the wall. Vince and Gabrielle choose the one adjacent. Detective Gallagher picks up a chair and positions it to face us. There is a smooth economy to his movements that warns me to pay attention. Vince is on the other side of Theo, sitting safely back and out of view, but his knees protrude and I see he’s wearing his khaki pants, the ones with the ghostly outline of his wallet worn into the hip pocket and the torn belt loop. Don’t you dare go out front in those, I’d chide, and he’d merely grin, go into the office, and reemerge fifteen minutes later, clean-shaven, dressed immaculately in fresh khakis and a crisp chef’s jacket. I’d pat his cheek and wink.
“The fire marshal’s released a preliminary report,” Detective Gallagher begins. “We haven’t released this to the media, and I’d like you to keep it to yourselves for now.”
“Of course.” Theo nods, finding my hand, as Gabrielle says, “What? What does he know?”
“He found traces of accelerant in your daughters’ room. He’s ruling this an arson, pending further investigation.”
“ In our daughters’ room?” Theo says.
“The fire marshal believes it was the point of origin.”
Point of origin. It sounds like a horror flick, not this. Not my life. Not Arden’s. “Someone started a fire in their room?” Were they asleep? How did they let it happen?
“Is he sure it’s arson?” Vince says. “I mean, kids keep all kinds of crap in their rooms. Nail-polish remover, hairspray, cigarette lighters.”
“Rubbing alcohol.” I’d packed the first-aid kit myself and stowed it under Arden’s bunk bed.
“There’s a difference between a flammable liquid,” Detective Gallagher says, “and one that’s used as an accelerant and is intended to spread a fire quickly. We found accelerant everywhere in your daughters’ dorm room, the walls, the ceiling, the floor. The lab’s analyzing samples now. We should know exactly what was used shortly.”
“You’re saying someone wanted to hurt our children?” It’s crazy. It’s impossible. “They’re just kids. ” Two eighteen-year-olds who spent this past summer watching One Tree Hill and eating gummy worms. Gabrielle has her fingertips against her mouth, her eyes blank and stunned. I look to Theo. I want him to agree, to argue that this is all an insane mistake, but his face registers nothing. He’s processing, thinking. “How can we help?” he asks instead.
“Well, arson’s an unusual way to hurt someone. Often, it’s directed at property, but we don’t think that’s the case here. We believe this was a revenge fire, someone settling a grudge.”
“Revenge for what?” Vince sounds bewildered. “These are good girls. What sort of grudge?”
“Did either of them mention any trouble on campus? Maybe some kids the girls have had run-ins with?”
“Rory doesn’t have run-ins,” Vince says. “She gets along with everyone.”
It’s true. Rory’s always been surrounded by a laughing group of kids. They swarm to her. She’s never been afraid to put herself out there and speak her mind. It makes her the unquestioned leader, but it has a price. Back when the girls were in seventh grade, Arden had told me how Rory was being picked on. Don’t you dare tell Aunt Gabrielle, my daughter had ordered. It’ll only make things worse. And then more recently, Rory isn’t who you think she is. Her voice had been freighted with meaning and I’d stopped what I was doing to give her my full attention. What does that mean? I’d asked, but she’d just shrugged.
“It’s a big campus,” Detective Gallagher says.
“Rory would have told us if there’d been a problem,” Vince insists.
Detective Gallagher looks to me, light reflecting off the
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