At 3 A.M., My Brother Dragged Me Out of My Bedroom While Dad Laughed—He Had No Idea What the Smoke Detector Had Recorded

The bookshelf.

A narrow section of hallway visible through the open door.

The timestamp read February 8.

I recognized the clothes hanging near the closet.

The folded blanket at the foot of the bed.

A book I’d been reading that month.

The room looked ordinary.

Then Aaron entered.