“I didn’t do anything,” Melanie sobbed, the tears appearing instantly on her face. “They made me come.”

“They told me we were just picking up some paperwork,” she lied, looking at Wyatt with pleading eyes.

“Wyatt, please, you know I wouldn’t do this,” Melanie whimpered.

Wyatt didn’t even look at her.

“Save it, Melanie,” I said, stepping fully into the room. “I heard you tell him to pour the gas.”

An officer escorted Melanie toward the stairs, her designer boots scuffing against the dirty wood.

“This is your fault, Sadie!” she screamed as they pulled her past me. “You ruined this family!”

“You did this to yourselves,” I said quietly, watching her go.

My father was led past us next, his head bowed, his hands secured behind his back.

He didn’t look at me, but his jaw was clenched so tight his muscles twitched.

My mother followed, still shouting threats about her lawyer and the police chief.

The basement grew quiet again, save for the hum of the police cruiser lights flashing outside the high, dirty windows.

“Are you two alright?” Harper asked, putting his flashlight away.