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“Are you okay?”
I lunged for the cabinet, grabbed the red fire extinguisher, and pulled the pin. Cold, flaky white dust spewed out of the tank, dispelling the smoke and soaking the kitchen. Breath gusted out of me as my pulse pounded, the nozzle of the fire extinguisher still pointed at the smoking microwave.
“...Anderson?”
“F-fire,” I stuttered, hands trembling. My heart still wasn’t beating right.
Charlie took the extinguisher out of my grip, achingly gentle. “There’s no fire, Sebastian. It’s okay.”
I mumbled something unintelligible.
“It’s fine. We’re fine. The apartment is fine.”
“This apartment is not fine. This entire building is not fine. This damn faulty wiring. Can’t even use the microwave!”
Decades of calcified hurt cracked open. It was this damn town. This damn house, which was so similar to the one I’d grown up in. The smell was the same: old plaster, aged wood, musty furnishings. Once upon a time, it would’ve been comforting. Now it just made me think about jerking awake in the middle of the night and smelling smoke. Rex, groggy from falling asleep late at our sleepover, stumbling over his feet to get out. My mother’s panicked expression. Everything that came after.
I needed out of this fucking town.
“I know you hate the house?—”
“I don’t hate the house,” I snapped. “I hate what this house is capable of. Do you have any idea what it’s like for a few sparks and smoke to eventually engulf everything you know and love in flames? To be a kid and lose your home. Not even have a pair of pants to your name.”
She searched my face, saying nothing.
I jabbed a finger to my chest. “I do.”
Understanding filled her gaze. “You were in a house fire?”
“It happened in the middle of the night,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut. I remembered the color of the flame against the night sky. The speed at which the fire blazed through the house. By the time the firefighters got there, they hadn’t even attempted to save it but had sprayed our neighbors’ houses to save those, instead. “New Elwood was my home, and our house was old.”
“Like this.”
“Exactly like this. Built in the 1800s. My mom used to work late into the night, and she liked drinking coffee. One night, she made a fresh brew and forgot to turn it off. I woke up to the smell of burning and my mother shaking me awake and telling me I had to get out. It happened so quickly. Everything we owned was gone. Rex was over for a sleepover. He lost his Gameboy. I felt like the worst friend in the world.”
And afterward, when we didn’t even have a suitcase of possessions to our name, the great Lydia Radcliffe blamed my mother for the fire and refused to take us in unless my mother prostrated herself at my grandmother’s feet. She kicked us when we were down, and I never forgave her.
Thirty years later, I still hadn’t forgiven her.
That’s why I wanted to get rid of her properties and turn my back on this town. I wanted to wash my hands of my grandmother’s memory forever. This inheritance was a slap in the face. Yes, I wanted The Bach Company. It was my dream. But more than that I wanted to use it to give back to my parents, especially my mother, after what we all lost.
A hand slid onto my arm and squeezed gently. “That’s why you’re such a nut about safety.”
“I’m not a nut.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Did you know that the fire ratings they give these old houses are mostly meaningless? The fire doors warp and change over time, and the gaps drastically reduce the fire rating. The plaster and lath ceilings have great fire resistance, but if they’re damaged, it means upper floors can succumb to fire much more quickly than anyone anticipates. If there are lots of fabrics and combustibles, these old buildings turn into tinderboxes.”
Charlie held my gaze for a long moment. “So you’re not just here to cash out. You actually care about more than just the money.”
“I care about people not losing everything, including their lives, when I can do something about it.”
And, yes, I wanted to cash out and leave this town behind for good, because there was nothing here for me. Then Charlie looked at me with those wide blue eyes, and I wondered if maybe I was wrong—but the stench of smoke still in my nostrils reminded me otherwise.
“This place is a death trap,” I said, strengthening my resolve. I’d tear it down as soon as I could.
“That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think? Why not fix it up?”
