He looked at the canister of gasoline in his hand, then dropped it onto the grass.

It rolled a few inches, leaving a damp trail on the lawn.

“Maya, please,” Mother said, reaching out a hand toward me. “We are your parents. We love you.”

“You loved the idea of a perfect family,” I said.

“We saved Chloe’s mind,” Mother cried. “How can you be so cruel to your own sister?”

“I loved her enough to keep her secret for twelve years,” I said. “Even when she didn’t know she had one.”

Chloe was looking down at her own hands.

She rubbed her palms together as if she could still feel the heat of the match.

“I did this to you,” she whispered, looking at my scarred arm.

“No,” I said. “You were six. You made a mistake.”

I looked directly at our father.

“They are the ones who turned your mistake into a prison for me,” I said.

A murmur went through the crowd of teenagers by the pool.

I saw a girl from my English class lower her phone, her eyes bright with tears.