She could tell Pastor Harris noticed the changes in her dad as well. He’d been coming by almost every day in recent weeks, usually right before dinner. For the most part, he kept the conversation light; he updated them on the construction or regaled them with amusing stories from his past, bringing a fleeting smile to her father’s face. But there were also moments when both of them seemed to run out of things to say to each other. Avoiding the elephant in the room was taxing for all of them, and in those moments, a fog of sadness seemed to settle in the living room.

When she sensed that they wanted to be alone, she would go stand out on the porch and try to imagine what they might be talking about. She could guess, of course: They talked about faith or family and maybe some regrets they each had, but she knew they also prayed together. She’d heard them once when she’d gone inside to get a glass of water, and she remembered thinking that Pastor Harris’s prayer sounded more like a plea. He seemed to be begging for strength as though his own life depended on it, and as she listened to him, she closed her eyes to chime in with a silent prayer of her own.

Mid-October brought three days of unseasonably chilly weather, cold enough to require a sweatshirt in the mornings. After months of relentless heat, she enjoyed the briskness in the air, but those three days were hard on her dad. Though they still walked the beach, he moved even more slowly, and they paused only briefly outside the church before turning and heading back home. By the time they reached the door, her dad was shivering. Once inside, she drew him a warm bath, hoping it would help, feeling the first twinges of panic at the new signs of sickness that signaled the disease was advancing more rapidly.

On a Friday, a week before Halloween, her father rallied enough for them to try fishing on the small dock that Will had first taken her to. Officer Pete lent them some extra rods and a tackle box. Remarkably, her dad had never been fishing before, so Ronnie had to bait the hook. The first two fish that took the bait got away, but they were finally able to hook a small red drum and land it on the dock. It was the same kind of fish she’d caught with Will, and as the fish struggled while she freed the hook, she suddenly missed Will with an intensity that felt like physical pain.

When they returned home after a peaceful afternoon at the dock, two people were waiting for them on the porch. It wasn’t until she got out of the car that she recognized Blaze and her mom. Blaze looked astonishingly different. Her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, and she was dressed in white shorts and a long-sleeved aquamarine top. She wore no jewelry or makeup.

Seeing Blaze again reminded Ronnie of something she’d managed to avoid thinking about in all her concerns for her father: that she would be returning to court before the month was out. She wondered what they wanted and why they were here.

She took her time helping her dad out of the car, offering her arm to steady him.

“Who are they?” her dad murmured.

Ronnie explained, and he nodded. As they approached, Blaze climbed down from the porch.

“Hi, Ronnie,” she said, clearing her throat. She squinted slightly in the lowering sun. “I came to talk to you.”


Ronnie sat across from Blaze in the living room, watching as Blaze studied the floor. Their parents had retreated to the kitchen to give them some privacy.

“I’m really sorry about your dad,” Blaze began. “How is he doing?”

“He’s okay.” Ronnie shrugged. “How about you?”

Blaze touched the front of her shirt. “I’ll always have scars here,” she said, then gestured to her arms and belly, “and here.” She gave a sad smile. “But I’m lucky to be alive, really.” She fidgeted in her seat before catching Ronnie’s eye. “I wanted to thank you for bringing me to the hospital.”

Ronnie nodded, still unsure where the conversation was going. “You’re welcome.”

In the silence, Blaze looked around the living room, uncertain what to say next. Ronnie, learning from her dad, simply waited.

“I should have come by sooner, but I know you’ve been busy.”

“It’s okay,” Ronnie said. “I’m just glad to see you’re doing okay.”

Blaze looked up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Ronnie said. She smiled. “Even if you do look like an Easter egg.”

Blaze pulled on her top. “Yeah, I know. Crazy, huh? My mom bought me some clothes.”

“They suit you. I guess the two of you are getting along better.”

Blaze gave her a rueful look. “I’m trying. I’m living back home again, but it’s hard. I did a lot of stupid things. To her, to other people. To you.”

Ronnie sat motionless, her expression neutral. “Why are you really here, Blaze?”

Blaze twisted her hands together, betraying her agitation. “I came to apologize. I did a terrible thing to you. And I know I can’t take back the stress I caused you, but I want you to know that I talked to the DA this morning. I told her that I put the stuff in your bag because I was mad at you, and I signed an affidavit that said you had no idea what was going on. You should be getting a call today or tomorrow, but she promised me that she would drop the charges.”

The words came out so fast that at first Ronnie wasn’t sure she’d heard her right. But Blaze’s entreating look told her everything she needed to know. After all these months, after all the countless days and nights of worry, it was suddenly over. Ronnie was in shock.

“I’m really sorry,” Blaze continued in a low voice. “I never should have put those things in your bag.”

Ronnie was still trying to digest the fact that this nightmarish ordeal was coming to an end. She studied Blaze, who was now picking repeatedly at a loose thread in the hem of her shirt. “What’s going to happen to you? Are they going to charge you?”

“No,” she said. At this she looked up, her jaw squared. “I had some information they wanted about another crime. A bigger crime.”

“You mean about what happened to you on the pier?”

“No,” she said, and Ronnie thought she saw something hard and defiant in her eyes. “I told them about the fire at the church and the way it really started.” Blaze made sure she had Ronnie’s attention before going on. “Scott didn’t start the fire. His bottle rocket had nothing to do with it. Oh, it landed near the church all right. But it was already out.”

Ronnie absorbed this information in growing wonderment. For a moment, they stared at each other, the charge in the air palpable.

“Then how did it start?”

Blaze leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, her forearms stretched out as if in supplication. “We were out partying on the beach-Marcus, Teddy, Lance, and me. A little later, Scott showed up, just down the beach from us. We pretended to ignore each other, but we could see Scott lighting up bottle rockets. Will was still down the beach and Scott sort of aimed one in his direction, but the wind caught it and it flew toward the church. Will started freaking out and came running. But Marcus thought the whole thing was hilarious, and the minute that rocket fell behind the church, he ran over to the churchyard. I didn’t know what was happening at first, even after I followed him and saw him torching the scrub grass next to the church wall. The next thing I knew, the side of the building was on fire.”

“You’re saying Marcus did it?” Ronnie could barely get the words out.

She nodded. “He set other fires, too. At least I’m pretty sure he did-he always loved fire. I guess I always knew he was crazy, but I…” She stopped herself, realizing she’d been down that road too many times already. She sat up straight. “Anyway, I’ve agreed to testify against him.”

Ronnie leaned back in her chair, feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of her. She remembered the things she’d said to Will, suddenly realizing that if Will had done what she’d demanded, Scott’s life would have been ruined for nothing.

She felt almost ill as Blaze went on. “I’m really sorry for everything,” she said. “And as crazy as it sounds, I did consider you my friend until I was an idiot and ruined it.” For the first time, Blaze’s voice cracked. “But you’re a great person, Ronnie. You’re honest, and you were nice to me when you had no reason to be.” A tear leaked out of one eye, and she swiped at it quickly. “I’ll never forget the day you offered to let me stay with you, even after all the terrible things I had done to you. I felt such… shame. And yet I was grateful, you know? That someone still cared.”

Blaze paused, visibly struggling to pull herself together. When she had blinked back her tears, she took a deep breath and fixed Ronnie with a determined look.

“So if you ever need anything-and I mean anything-let me know. I’ll drop everything, okay? I know I can’t ever make up for what I did to you, but in a way, I feel like you saved me. What’s happened to your dad is just so unfair… and I would do anything to help you.”

Ronnie nodded.

“And one last thing,” Blaze added. “We don’t have to be friends, but if you ever see me again, will you please call me Galadriel? I can’t stand the name Blaze.”

Ronnie smiled. “Sure thing, Galadriel.”


As Blaze had promised, her lawyer called that afternoon, informing her that the charges in her shoplifting case had been dropped.

That night, as her dad lay sleeping in his bedroom, Ronnie turned on the local news. She wasn’t sure if the news would cover it, but there it was, a thirty-second segment right before the weather forecast about “the arrest of a new suspect in the ongoing arson investigation relating to a local church burning last year.” When they flashed a mug shot of Marcus with a few details of his prior misdemeanor charges, she turned off the TV. Those cold, dead eyes still had the power to unnerve her.