I barely remember hands being wrapped around our bodies. They stood around us, enveloping us in their warmth and kindness. Yet again, pillars for us to lean on. I don’t know how long we stood like that, as they fought the scorching inferno that was John Bell, but they never faltered. They held us until a fireman came up to let us know that it was cleared to scope out the damage. We nodded and waited to hear word on just how bad the injury was.

I remember Cherry and Charlie discussing where we should stay and they’d decided Charlie’s was best and he’d go stay with her, but that at least for the night, none of us should be apart. Cherry sent the girls out to pick up essentials for both Harper and I; toothbrushes, underwear, basic clothing, things like that. Charlie told Tom and SO to ready his apartment for our arrival. I couldn’t speak, too engrossed in caring for a grieving Harper but I remembered feeling an overwhelming gratefulness to our generous and considerate friends.

It was almost light out when it seemed all the trucks were gone. The only ones left were us and a few investigators. All had been cleared to return to their apartments. There was no structural damage. Our apartment was the only affected. The police had arrived shortly after that and we answered as many questions as possible. The fire investigator confirmed it was arson. He returned to his truck while we spoke to the detectives and brought back a clear plastic bag with a large metal case inside. I didn’t recognize any of it so I knew it had to have been something John left.

“This is a fire proof box we found in the middle of their living room. We figured it was left by the arsonist. It had a name written in marker across the top and a melted bow. It looked out of place,” the investigator told the detective.

“That’s definitely not ours,” I said.

“Can we take this?” The detective asked.

“I need to process it. You can have all when we’re done with our investigation. Is it something you’d be interested in?”

“Well, yeah, the suspect in their assault case from a few weeks ago is probably our number one in the arson as well.”

“Ah, I see. Alright, well, I’ll hand it over to you then. Yours takes precedence. Just let us know when you’re done,” the investigator said, starting to walk away.

“Wait, what do you think is in it?” Harper asked, clinging to my side.

“We’re not sure, Miss. We suspect a message of sorts,” he answered.

“We’ll process for prints at the office, Harper,” the detective said. “Once it’s opened, we’ll let you know what’s inside.”

“Will you call tonight?” I asked.

“You mean, this morning?” He asked, squinting at the rising morning sun. I nodded. “Sure, I’ll be sure to do that.”

The detective took my cell phone number. The investigator led Harper and I and the remainder of our group, including Cherry and Charlie and led us to our apartment. When we reached our floor, it looked normal but the smell was intense.

“What about our neighbors?” I asked.

“I think they’re staying at a few friends’ homes until it can be cleaned.”

I nodded, feeling slightly guilty at the inconvenience our psycho was causing others.

The hallway half way to our door was splattered with gray and grew to a menacing solid black once we reached the open hole where our door used to be. I gripped Harper’s hand as we entered our living room, barely recognizing it. Cherry gasped once inside and held Charlie’s hand as he stood and shook his head back and forth in disbelief.

The couch was a charred mess, the wingback we spent hours recovering was non-existent. I wrapped an arm around Harper’s waist as we inched toward her room, absorbing our scorched surroundings. Her bedroom was a giant gaping hole, exposed to the outside. The closet that held both our clothing was gone as well as an entire wall of art Harper and I had spent months collecting. The only room slightly left intact was the kitchen and it was the only room we could probably care less about. I felt like hunting John Bell down and murdering him with my bare hands.

“My book!” Harper suddenly exclaimed.

She broke free of my grasp and tried to enter the bedroom. I clutched at her waist, preventing her from entering. “No, Harper! The floor is unstable!”

Cherry went to Harper’s side, trying to console her.

“Where is it?” I asked.

“It was wrapped in plastic and placed in a plastic shoe box on the top shelf of our closet.”

“It’s gone then,” I said, going to her.

She wrapped her arms around my waist and held me closely. “Why?” She whispered. She pulled away a little to peer into my face. “I’m so sorry. He took our home, Callum.”

I forced her back into my chest. “No! He didn’t take my home, Harper! Because my home is right here, in my arms.”

She clung to me harder, squeezing my waist, before reaching up and throwing her arms around my neck.

She spoke into my neck. “I’m still so very sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. They’re just things, Harper.”

And for the first time since the incident, I realized just how much I didn’t care for those things. Yeah, it was an inconvenience, I’ll admit that, but I was forever grateful that everything I truly cared about in this world was standing right in front of me, wearing my ring. I knew I couldn’t wait anymore to tell her how I really felt.

“Come on,” I said, guiding her toward the hall. “Let’s go,” I told Cherry and Charlie.

We took a taxi to Charlie’s and the place was empty when we got there. Cherry told us she had encouraged everyone to go home and get some rest and try to come over later that night. Since, Harper and I were beat, Charlie and Cherry left, leaving Harper and I alone. We showered, brushed our teeth, and dressed in the pajamas Cherry had the girls buy us. It all felt very normal, save for the fact that it was anything but.

I practically spilled into Charlie’s bed, not even bothering to get under the covers. Harper followed suit and squirmed to my side of the bed, entangling her arms and legs within mine. We slept as one person for a couple of hours before being woken up at noon by my cell phone, whose battery was on its last leg. Have to remember to stop by the store and pick up a charger, I thought, yet another thing you never think of until you need it once it’s gone.

“Hello?” I answered groggily, still holding Harper. She stayed fast asleep.

“Hi, this is Detective Carson. We spoke earlier this morning at the scene of the fire?”

“Yes, is this about the box?” I asked.

“Yeah, would it be too much trouble to ask for you and Harper to come down to the station.”

“We need to ask you both a few questions, if that’s okay?”

I couldn’t help but yawn. Four hours of sleep just wasn’t setting well. “Of course, we’ll be right there,” I answered and hung up.

I shook Harper gently. “Harper, honey, wake up.”

She groaned and looked up at me sleepily. “What’s wrong?” She asked, studying my face.

“Detective Carson asked us to come up to the station.”

Harper

The station was teeming with people, the smells of lunch permeated the air around us. The girls, who always thought I dressed a bit too lax, were true to form when they purchased a change of clothes for me. I was so grateful to them but they picked the tightest pair of skinny jeans they could find, a pair of grey boots to wear over, and a ridiculously low cut and tight t-shirt. I thanked God that I still had my jacket from the night before to cover up. I giggled to myself slightly as I thought about how much I wanted to kill them and hug them both at the same time. Kill them because I felt ridiculous but hug them because of the amazing look I got from Callum when I came out of the bathroom at Charlie’s. I needed to rethink my boy wardrobe slightly if I was going to get looks like that.

I was tired of waiting to tell him how I felt. I refused to wait until after graduation as I’d planned. I knew I couldn’t make it that long. I’d decided that night, I’d spill my guts. The night of the fire I couldn’t believe where our conversation had gone. My stomach flipped just thinking about it and it gave me more hope than I dared to dream. Every time he held my hand, touched my skin, hugged me, now had a very different meaning. I wondered now if it wasn’t just as one sided as I’d always thought it had been.

“Mr. and Mrs. Tate?” An officer asked, breaking my train of thought.

The giddy, crazy feeling I always got when someone called me his wife would never leave me, I thought.

“Yes?” Callum answered, standing up, sending a deeper thrill coursing through my stomach.

“If you’ll follow me,” he said.

Now the nerves took over. I wanted to stop in the middle of the hallway, beg Callum to run away with me and start fresh in another state just so I wouldn’t have to deal with the crap we were destined to deal with very soon. We rounded a corner and entered an older looking gentleman’s office. This was not Detective Carson. Carson was younger, maybe mid-twenties, had light blonde hair and bright eyes. This man was much older, maybe sixty, pudgy around the middle but had a very kind face.

“Hello,” he said, standing, holding out his hand for each of us. “My name is Detective Lewis. Carson needed some shut eye and I promised him I’d go over the evidence with you. I’m the second detective on the case now.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Harper Tate and this is my husband, Callum.” Callum winked at me when I’d called him my husband. It was the first time I’d ever done that.

“A pleasure,” the detective said and we all sat. “I’m not looking to alarm you but the box the investigator found, you have suspicions it is John Bell, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” I said.

“Okay, we found prints on the box but they weren’t John’s.”

“What?” Callum asked. “That’s impossible...”

“Wait,” the detective interrupted. “They belong to a woman who 's been missing for several weeks now and is now believed to be deceased.”

“What?” I asked, all the breath leaving my body at once. I was choking on the news he’d given me. If I wasn’t already sitting, I would have trouble supporting myself. “Why do you believe she is deceased?” I asked, not really wanting to hear why.

“Well, unfortunately we found her fingers inside the box he left at your home.”

“Oh my God!” I said, clutching Callum’s jacket sleeve.

The detective shook his head. “Yes, terrible and I’m so sorry to be the one telling you this but we’ve had a slew of missing persons cases over the past six months, right about the time John Bell was released. Now, we suspect him in most of the cases because the timing just fits.”

“Why else do you suspect him?” Callum asked, reading into his statement.

Detective Lewis sighed loudly and fell into the back of his chair, making me sit up ramrod straight in mine. “There are characteristics that each girl possesses that we feel may be a common link.”