It was that I stopped letting them describe me, and let my actions describe me instead.

My actions used much larger words.

Chapter 8 — You Started the Fire

Samuel laid out several items from the envelope onto the table: photographs of burn patterns, a photograph of a scorched and broken container, an image of an upstairs bedroom.

Jessica looked down at them, and the last of her composure fell away.

“What is this?”

“You started the fire, Jessica,” I said.

She recoiled. “No.”