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I groan when I remember the house on fire, and Lily Anna climbs on the bed next to me, her eyes wide and red-rimmed. I’m afraid of asking, growing even more scared when I realize the nurse won’t quite meet my eye.
“My parents,” I finally manage to get out. “Are they… are they okay?”
“I’m so sorry,” the nurse says gently, coming closer to squeeze my ashen hand. “The paramedics and firemen tried their best, but they were both gone by the time they got there.”
Pain sears through me like a knife. Just like that, I’m alone. With no other family, I’m now an orphan. I may have money, but I don’t have a family anymore. I’m the last Booth standing.
I want to cry, but somehow the tears refuse to come. Lily Anna does, curling up on my lap and sobbing against my hospital gown. I hold her close, but my mouth’s set in a thin line, knowing I can’t be weak ever again. It’s as if something shifts deep within me, reminding me I have other people to be strong for now.
“You were lucky to get out in one piece,” the nurse tells me softly. “If it wasn’t for this little girl’s father, you would’ve still been trapped in those flames.”
“W-What?” I stutter. “Emilian Oakes?”
“Yes, he came to pick up Lily Anna and saw what was happening – he rushed in to save you,” the nurse nods with a gentle smile. “He walked into the fire before the firemen arrived and brought you out. Nearly lost his own life in the process. He has severe burns on the right side of his torso.”
“Why didn’t he save my parents?” I ask, and the nurse falters, giving me a questioning look.
“He saw you first,” she says, obviously shocked by the question as she clasps a hand to her chest. “He tried his best… He could only carry you…”
“Lies!” I snarl, and Lily Anna crawls off my lap, softly crying as I jump up, pacing the room. “That door was locked. My mother’s atelier… it was locked. From the outside. There was no way I could get it open or knock it down.”
“Maybe you were just too weak,” the nurse stammers, giving me a nervous look. “Maybe the handle was too hot…”
“No,” I shake my head vehemently. “No, that’s not it. You weren’t there, you don’t know. The door was locked, there was no way anyone could have gotten inside – not unless they had something to break down the door.”
“Dexter,” the nurse says softly. “You’re only fourteen… You couldn’t have brought that door down yourself. It wasn’t locked.”
“How do you know for sure?” I demand. “Did the firemen check when they arrived?”
“Well…” She chews her bottom lip nervously.
“What?” I demand. “Tell me. I command you!”
She shivers nervously, finally whispering, “There was no door left when the firemen arrived. The roof caved in. It… it was all buried underneath.”
With those words coming from her mouth, the reality of everything that’s happened finally sinks in, and I drop to my knees on the hard linoleum floor. My parents are gone. My house is fucked. I have nothing. I’m alone.
Lily Anna’s arms wrap from me behind, and she begins to pepper my skin with sweet, soft kisses.
“You have me,” she whispers in my ear, as if she can somehow read my mind. “You’ll always have me, Dexter, you don’t need anybody else in your life.”
For all our sakes, I hope she’s fucking right. Because there’s nobody but her now.
* * *
Present time
With my hands trembling, I place the bouquet of red roses on my parents’ grave. The grave is well-kept, the moss that grows on the tombstone removed religiously by Anders. Now that he’s been away for a week, I can already see the signs of lichen growing on the marble again.
I kneel next to the spot where they’re buried, my hands touching the white stones covering their grave. I feel so lost without them. This, right here, is the only time and place I’ll allow myself to be vulnerable. I don’t let anyone else see this part of me. Not even Lily Anna.
I force my hands out of the cold air and into my pockets, willing them to stop shaking.
The time for revenge is coming. I can smell it in the crisp autumn air.
I’ve known for years now why my parents died. The knowledge of the horrible crime that has been committed is stored away safely in the darkest confines of my mind, locked away, festering and rotting with every day that goes by with the murderer going unpunished.
Someone locked the door of my mother’s atelier. And he’s not going to get away with it.
