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“I… I don’t understand.”
She let out a defeated sigh. “When I was looking for an Airbnb to stay in, I saw Jack Franco’s place. His name was on the listing. I booked it in the hopes that you two might…” She glanced at the one-way window. “Reconnect.”
“You knew we were staying in his guest house when you booked it? And you did it to… Brandi!”
“I’m your sister.” She gave me a small smile. “I’m never going to stop meddling in your life.”
“But I still don’t understand. Why did that tip off the investigator?”
“Because I’m an idiot. I was afraid someone else might steal the guest house. So I made the booking the day before you flew into town.”
“A day before the fire,” I said, realizing what she meant. “Even before the house burned down, you were already making alternative plans.”
“And all because I wanted you to have a second chance at a boy,” she muttered. “Funny how things turned out, with you hooking up with—”
“They’re all standing right there,” I hissed. “Right behind the glass, listening.”
“Oh, sorry.” She sighed again. “I guess you and Jack aren’t meant to be. Maybe in another life, huh?”
Glancing at the window, I sat next to Brandi and cupped my hand over her ear.
Brandi jerked back. “AT THE HOSPITAL?”
“Shush!” I said.
Brandi was laughing now. “This almost makes it worth it! What are you going to do? About… the whole situation?”
She was picking her words carefully since we had an audience. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I still don’t think it’s worth what you did. Brandi, you’re pleading guilty to arson! Are you going to prison?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I guess I’ll find out when my lawyer gets here and negotiates.”
I squeezed her hands tightly in mine. “No matter what happens, I’m here for you. I always will be.”
“I know that, Alyssa.”
“And I’ll visit you in prison! I’ll hide a metal file in a cake for you, like in the old cartoons.”
She laughed, which made me smile. Then I looked at the glass and said, “I’m only joking. I don’t intend to do that.”
That sent Brandi into another fit of laughter… which quickly devolved into sobs. I hugged her, holding her in my arms until she had gotten it all out.
“She’s gone,” I whispered. “Our mother is gone. She can never hurt us again, Brandi.”
Our mother had been terrible to both of us, but I had always thought I got the worst of it. I should have been more empathetic toward Brandi. She had suffered under our mother just as much as I had, if not more.
I’ll be a better sister after this, I told myself. Even if it means visiting her in prison every weekend.
When I left the room, there was one more newcomer standing around with my three firemen and the fire inspector: Brandi’s husband, Kyle. We hugged, and he removed his glasses to wipe his eyes.
“I never knew,” he said. “I mean, I’d heard stories. But I never knew it was this bad. Bad enough to… arson? I just can’t believe it.”
“Me neither,” I admitted. “But I do understand it.”
“It’s my fault,” Kyle said, blowing his nose on a handkerchief. “I should have been a better partner to her. I could have driven down with her. If I was with her, if I had known, maybe I could have talked her out of it…”
I shook my head emphatically. “Kyle, this isn’t your fault. Not even close. It’s our mother’s fault for treating us the way she did, for making us feel like the only way to escape her legacy was to burn down that damn house.” Once the words were out of my mouth, they felt wrong. I soon realized why. Something Jack had said to me came back, fresh and true.
“And it’s our fault,” I said, feeling more certain with every moment. “I’m responsible for my actions, and Brandi is for hers. We’re adults, and we have to take responsibility for what we do. Our mother was a horrible woman, but we can only blame her for so much. We’re not responsible for the trauma that happens in our lives, but we are responsible for the way we deal with it.”
