Then I heard footsteps behind her before Caleb appeared, looking exhausted, like he hadn’t slept at all.
The moment he saw me, the color drained from his face.
“Cindy…”
I folded my arms tightly. “You were there the night of the fire?”
For a second, nobody said anything.
Then Caleb stepped outside.
“Yeah,” he admitted.
Hearing him finally say it made my stomach twist.
Then I heard footsteps behind her.
“What happened?”
Caleb hesitated before answering.
“When I was nine, I saw Mason sneak out late that night. He used to do stuff like that all the time, and I followed him on my bike because I thought it was some kind of game.”
He looked down as he spoke.
“I lost track of him for a while because he was on his skateboard, but eventually I saw him climbing out of a window at your house. A few minutes later, I noticed smoke coming from the kitchen.”
I stared at him, unsure what to say.
“What happened?”
“I got scared and rode home. The next morning, when everyone started talking about the fire and what happened to you…” He swallowed hard. “I kept thinking if I told anyone, Mason’s life would be ruined.”
“So you stayed quiet?”
“I was nine.”
That stopped me for a moment.
He explained that Mason kept getting into worse trouble as he got older. Juvenile detention. Fights. Eventually prison.
But Caleb never stopped thinking about that night.
Especially after we ended up attending the same school years later.
“I got scared and rode home.”
“At first, I tried avoiding you,” Caleb admitted. “Every time I saw you, I thought about the fire.”
But avoiding me eventually became impossible.
Classes. Hallways. Football games. Group projects.
And over time, guilt turned into something else.
Then Caleb told me something I never expected.
Before prom, he overheard some guys joking about how nobody would ask me to dance.
“I snapped at them. One of them almost punched me over it.”
“At first, I tried avoiding you.”
Taylor stood quietly behind us, listening.
Caleb continued, “I didn’t ask you to dance because I felt sorry for you. I did it because I was tired of pretending I didn’t care about you.”
That genuinely shocked me.
He explained that after taking me home, he went to Taylor’s house because her parents were away and he needed advice about finally telling me the truth.
“I planned to come talk to you today.”
I stared at him for a long moment before asking the question that still bothered me most.
That genuinely shocked me.
“Why would Mason do something like that?”
Caleb slowly shook his head.
“I honestly don’t know.”
Then his expression shifted slightly.
“But maybe it’s time we asked him ourselves.”
An hour later, Caleb drove us to the correctional facility two towns away.
Taylor stayed in the car while Caleb and I went inside for visitation.
“Why would Mason do something like that?”
The entire drive there, my stomach stayed tied in knots.
Part of me expected Mason to look terrifying after everything I’d heard over the years.
Instead, when he entered the visitation room, he just looked exhausted and older than he should have.
The second he saw me sitting beside Caleb, his face completely fell.
No one spoke at first. Then I leaned forward and asked the only thing I wanted answered.
“Why did you do it?”
Mason stared at the table for several long seconds, clearly realizing there was no hiding anymore.
Part of me expected Mason to look terrifying.
“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.”
Caleb sat beside me looking tense.
Mason continued.
“I climbed inside because I thought maybe I could steal 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 searched the living room.”
Listening to him made me feel sick.
“It wasn’t intentional.”
“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 had been a fire until the next morning.”
For years, Caleb had believed his brother intentionally burned my house down. I could see it all over his face.
Mason looked back at me, shame written across his expression.
“I’m sorry, Cindy. About everything.”
Silence filled the room.
“Then I heard movement.”
Then Mason quietly added, “If you want to report it now, I understand.”
I looked at him for a long moment.
Honestly, I expected to feel angry sitting there, but mostly I just felt sad.
Sad that one reckless decision from a teenager had changed so many lives.
Sad that Caleb carried guilt for nearly a decade over something he barely understood as a child.
When Caleb and I left the facility, we barely spoke during the drive back.
But before going home, we stopped at the police station.
I expected to feel angry.
I found the same officers from that morning and told them everything Mason confessed.
And when they asked whether I wanted to press charges, I shook my head.
“No,” I said. “I don’t, and I’m sure my mother won’t either.”
Because nothing would ever erase my scars.
But for the first time in years, I finally realized they no longer controlled my life.
And somehow, neither did the fire anymore.
