“It wasn’t intentional. When I was 14, I used to sneak around neighborhoods at night doing stupid things. That night, I saw the garden gnome outside your house and walked over to look at it. Then I noticed the kitchen window was cracked open. I climbed inside because I thought maybe I could take something small without anyone noticing. While I was in the kitchen, I lit a cigarette. After a few minutes, I left it on the counter while I looked through the living room. Then I heard movement and panicked. I climbed back out the window and ran.”
Caleb stared at him in disbelief. “You never meant to start the fire?” Mason looked genuinely confused. “I didn’t even realize there was a fire until the next morning.”
He looked at me, shame written all over him. “I’m sorry, Cindy. About everything. If you want to report it now, I understand.”
I told the police everything Mason admitted. When they asked whether I wanted to move forward with charges, I shook my head.
“No,” I said. “I don’t, and I’m sure my mother won’t, either.”
Because nothing was going to erase my scars. But for the first time in years, I realized they didn’t control my life anymore.
And somehow, neither did the fire.
Note: This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Names, characters, and details have been altered. Any resemblance is coincidental. The author and publisher disclaim accuracy, liability, and responsibility for interpretations or reliance. All images are for illustration purposes only.
