He looked at the police, then back at the burning house.

The orange flames were already licking at the living room windows.

“Put the bag down, Richard,” Harper commanded.

My father did not move.

He looked like he was considering running back into the fire.

“Dad, please,” Melanie wailed from the ground.

“Just do what they say.”

One of the officers moved in quickly, grabbing my father’s arm.

He wrestled the duffel bag away and forced my father to the wet grass.

The metal handcuffs clicked loudly into place.

I watched from the truck, my chin resting on the cold glass of the window.

“It’s over,” Wyatt said softly.

“For them, yes,” I said.

But I knew it wasn’t completely finished.

The fire was growing.

The sirens of the Columbus Fire Department were audible in the distance now, a rising wail.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out.

The screen showed an incoming call from an unknown number.

I pressed the receiver to my ear.

“Sadie,” a voice rasped.

It was Arthur Bennett.

“Arthur?” I asked.

“Are you alright?”