Her bloodshot eyes and quiet demeanor are dead giveaways she barely slept last night. She’s sipping her coffee, sitting at the kitchen table, and staring off into space in deep thought. I felt her get up several times, walk to the back door, and look up at the charred cabin she and Zoe currently called home. During one of her many rounds, I quietly moved in behind her, wrapped my arms around her, and did my best to comfort her.
She whispered, “They said they checked the whole house, right? Zoe wasn’t in there?”
“That’s right, babe, she wasn’t in there. They would’ve found her if she had been. For that matter, we would’ve found her when we went inside. That’s at least one scenario you don’t have to worry about.”
“I just don’t understand any of this.”
What could I say? I don’t fucking get it either. Even in the morning light, nothing is made clearer except the damage that was done to the cabin. And what would’ve happened if I hadn’t arrived exactly when I did. One minute later, Layne could’ve been exposed to so much smoke inhalation that she would’ve gone to sleep forever.
The elephant in the room that we haven’t talked about yet is how Zoe fits into the equation. It was extremely out of character for her not to come home last night. Did she surprise the arsonist and get taken because of it? Or was she perhaps a party to it and disappeared to save herself? Her love for Layne never seemed fake or forced, and that’s what worries me the most.
A knock on the front door makes both of us jump, and Layne rushes to see who’s here, to find out if there’s any news on Zoe. She swings the door open and freezes in place for a second before I reach her.
“Zoe, where have you been? We’ve been so worried,” she cries and pulls Zoe into her arms.
“I’m sorry,” Zoe replies, returns the hug, and steps back. “I tried to call the house over and over, but there was no answer. Now I know why. What happened?”
“What happened to you? We’ve called your cell repeatedly,” Layne replies.
“I either left my cell in the house or someone stole it out of my cubbyhole in the break room at the store. All my numbers are in that phone, so I couldn’t call your cell. When I got off work, my car wouldn’t start, so I had to wait on the wrecker to have it towed,” Zoe explains.
“Who’d you call? Tommy?” I ask.
“Yeah, Tommy Anderson. His daughter Ava and I used to be good friends. She’s a couple of years older than I am, but she’s home from college for summer break. She offered to drive me home, but I couldn’t let her do that with how late it was by then. I spent the night with her, and we had a slumber party like we used to when we were kids. Spent half the night just catching up on life. I’m sorry you were worried—I did try to call you several times once I got the cabin number from information.”
“No, you don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay, Zoe. You’re eighteen—you can stay at a friend’s house if you want to. After the fire, I imagined all kinds of terrible things happening to you. My imagination went a little crazy, I guess,” Layne replies.
“What happened with the fire? I went by the house and everything is taped off. I was scared to death when I saw it. Are you okay?”
The three of us each take a seat and Layne describes the events of last night. Zoe listens intently and interjects several times, asking questions and clarifying events. When Layne tells Zoe that she would’ve died if I hadn’t driven by exactly when I did, all the blood drains from Zoe’s face. She grips the arm of the couch and her hand flies to cover her heart.
“You were still inside the house when it was burning?” Zoe gasps.
“Yes, I guess I was even more tired than I realized because I was completely knocked out on the couch,” Layne answers.
“And the smoke you were exposed to would’ve put you in an even deeper sleep than normal,” I add. “I couldn’t wake her,” I say and turn my gaze to Zoe. “She didn’t wake up until we were outside and she was breathing in clean air.”
“Layne, I should’ve been there with you,” Zoe cries and grabs Layne’s hand.
“You were safer where you were. There’s a reason why you weren’t home last night. It could’ve been much worse than it was. What if you’d been there asleep and I was here with Ace? We wouldn’t have known anything was happening until it was too late.”
Layne has a good point there. It could’ve just as easily been Zoe who was asleep in that fire, and she probably would’ve been upstairs where it’s harder to get to her. But since my suspicious side has already reared its ugly head, I have to follow up on a few things with Tommy before I’ll be completely satisfied. My first priority in all of this is to protect Layne.