Chapter 3 - The Man Behind the Fire
Marcus didn't answer the phone.
He just stood there staring at it.
For the first time since I had met him, he looked genuinely afraid.
"Why would Vernon call you now?" I demanded.
Marcus slipped the phone into his pocket.
"Because he has people watching."
I glanced down the hallway.
The apartment complex had security cameras near the elevators and stairwells.
A delivery driver stood near the parking lot.
A woman walked her dog below.
Everything looked ordinary.
That frightened me more than an obvious threat would have.
"Watching who?"
"Nia."
My eyes snapped toward her.
She looked away.
"How long?"
Marcus rubbed his forehead.
"A few months."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"You let her live like this?"
He stepped toward me.
"Don't start."
"Her own stepfather is watching her apartment, and you're telling me not to start?"
Nia raised her voice.
"Both of you, stop!"
We fell silent.
Then a smaller voice came from behind her.
"Is Grandpa Vernon bad?"
Malik stood inside the doorway.
He had apparently been listening.
Nia turned.
"Sweetheart, I told you to stay in your room."
"But you said Grandpa Vernon protects us."
I looked at her.
She closed her eyes.
Children remember everything.
Even the things adults wish they would forget.
I knelt before my son.
"Malik, none of this is your fault."
He looked at me.
"Did you really go to prison?"
The question struck like a fist.
I had prepared myself for anger.
For rejection.
For hearing my son call another man Daddy.
But I had not prepared for explaining prison to a child who still believed people went away because they wanted to.
"Yes, buddy."
"Because of the fire?"
"Yes."
He touched the scar on my wrist.
"Did it hurt?"
My eyes filled.
"Sometimes."
He examined my hand.
Then he whispered, "Mom cries when she thinks I'm asleep."
I looked at Nia.
She was crying again.
Malik continued.
"She keeps your picture in her drawer."
Nia turned away.
Something inside me cracked.
She hadn't forgotten me.
But she had still left me there.
Both things could be true.
I couldn't decide which hurt more.
Marcus suddenly spoke.
"We need to get inside."
I looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because Vernon's driver is downstairs."
I followed his gaze.
A black SUV had pulled into the parking lot.
A man in a gray jacket stepped out.
I recognized him.
Calvin Reed.
Vernon's head of security.
He had been at the courthouse the day I was sentenced.
He was the man who smirked when the judge read the verdict.
I felt my fists tighten.
Nia grabbed Malik and ushered him inside.
Marcus picked up the scattered toys.
I followed them through the doorway.
The door locked behind us.
For the first time in five years, I stood inside the home where my son lived.
There were drawings on the refrigerator.
A plastic basketball hoop near the hallway.
A family photograph beside the television.
It showed Malik, Nia, Marcus, and Evelyn.
I wasn't in it.
But beside that photograph sat a small wooden truck.
I recognized it instantly.
I had carved it for Malik's second birthday.
One wheel was slightly crooked.
I had made it that way by accident.
My son had kept it.
My eyes burned.
Nia noticed me looking.
"He sleeps with it beside his bed."
I turned away before she could see me crying.
Marcus pulled the curtains closed.
Then he faced us.
"Vernon's company is being audited."
I looked up.
"What?"
"A state investigator started asking questions about the Riverside fire."
My heart began pounding.
"Why now?"
"An old insurance claim was reopened."
He hesitated.
"And somebody gave them new information."
Nia stared at him.
"Who?"
Marcus didn't answer immediately.
Then he said, "Me."
The room fell silent.
I studied his face.
"You?"
He nodded.
"Three months ago."
I laughed bitterly.
"Five years too late."
"I know."
"You watched me get sentenced."
"I know."
"You watched my son grow up without me."
His eyes reddened.
"I know, Darius!"
He slammed his palm against the kitchen counter.
Malik flinched.
Marcus immediately lowered his voice.
"I'm sorry."
I moved between him and my son.
Marcus looked ashamed.
Then he continued.
"I didn't know Vernon caused the fire until last year."
I crossed my arms.
"Then what did you know?"
"That he'd falsified maintenance records."
"That's enough to know I didn't start it."
He lowered his head.
"You're right."
The admission surprised me.
But it wasn't forgiveness.
Not even close.
Marcus reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small flash drive.
"I copied files from Vernon's office."
He set it on the table.
"Payments. Maintenance reports. Insurance records."
Nia stared.
"You've had those all this time?"
"No. I got them three months ago."
I reached toward the drive.
Marcus covered it with his hand.
"There's something you need to understand first."
"What?"
"Vernon didn't just blame you to escape responsibility."
My stomach tightened.
"He needed you convicted."
"Why?"
"Because your testimony could have exposed a much bigger scheme."
I waited.
Marcus swallowed.
"Riverside wasn't the only building with unsafe wiring."
He explained that Vernon had submitted insurance claims for expensive repairs across six apartment complexes.
The repair work had never been completed.
Money was moved through shell companies.
Buildings deteriorated.
Tenants complained.
And anyone who threatened to expose the fraud was silenced.
I remembered the records I had copied before the fire.
"Where's my old work laptop?"
Nia shook her head.
"It disappeared during the investigation."
"Someone took it."
Marcus nodded.
"Vernon."
I felt a cold certainty settle over me.
"Then he burned Riverside to destroy the evidence."
Marcus looked at me.
"That's what I believe."
Nia suddenly gripped the kitchen chair.
"But there were families living there."
"I know," Marcus said quietly.
I remembered the screams.
The smoke.
The old woman coughing in my arms.
There had been forty-three occupied apartments.
Three residents were hospitalized.
One firefighter suffered serious injuries.
A little girl had spent weeks recovering from smoke inhalation.
Vernon had treated all of them like numbers on a spreadsheet.
Then Nia spoke.
"I saw Calvin that night."
My eyes snapped toward her.
"He came out of the electrical room."
"Before the fire?"
She nodded.
"I was carrying laundry downstairs. He told me Vernon had authorized an emergency inspection."
"Did you tell the police?"
"I tried."
"What happened?"
"Vernon's lawyer told me I had misunderstood."
Marcus looked up sharply.
"Nia."
She began trembling.
"Then Vernon told me Calvin had been nowhere near the building."
I stared at her.
"And you never questioned that?"
"Of course I did!"
Her voice broke.
"But every time I questioned him, he threatened to take Malik."
I wanted to be angry.
I was angry.
But looking at her face, I realized fear had been controlling her life for years.
Then someone knocked.
Three slow knocks.
Nobody moved.
A man's voice came through the door.
"Miss Price? Mr. Price would like a word."
Calvin.
Marcus stepped toward the entrance.
I caught his shoulder.
"Don't open it."
Calvin knocked again.
"Nia. I know he's there."
Malik pressed against my leg.
I rested my hand on his shoulder.
Calvin's voice turned colder.
"Tell Darius Coleman that if he wants to stay free, he should leave the past alone."
My blood went cold.
May you like
Then he added something even worse.
"Tell him we still have the evidence that can send him back."
