She pulls her phone out of her pocket, staring at it for a moment. “It’s Bailey.”
I take it from her hand before she can answer it because Mirabelle’s all over the place. I’m not sure she’d make it through a conversation with her little brother without bursting into tears again. “Hey, B,” I answer, trying to keep my tone light.
“Henry?” he questions, and I watch Mirabelle’s face as she stares at me.
“Yeah. You okay?”
“Is Mira okay?”
“She’s okay. A little rattled, but I’m with her while we wait for your parents to get here,” I say, trying to ease him.
And then I hear the kid sniffle, and my heart nearly cracks in half. I figured out a while ago that Bailey lashes out at people because he feels things so deeply, and he doesn’t always know how to deal with his emotions.
“Bailey, I promise she’s okay. The house is still there, it’s just a little crispy in some spots.” More like charred, and lucky to still be standing, but I don’t want to worry him more than he already is.
“Can I talk to her, please?”
I offer the phone to Mirabelle, who hesitantly holds it up to her ear. She walks a couple feet away for privacy as she talks to him, and I take the time to send her parents a quick update like I said I would. I leave out the part about it potentially being arson because they’re driving. They’ll find out when they get here.
When she returns, Mirabelle’s eyes are red and swollen.
A police officer finds his way toward us, repeating the same information Mirabelle already shared with me. It still doesn’t make it any easier to hear, but I can only hope this was the result of a tragic accident, instead of the unthinkable.
“Your parents will be here soon,” I say, leaning against the front of her car. “I’m sorry I was an asshole to you and Stacey today. You didn’t deserve it.”
She smiles at me, but it doesn’t meet her eyes. “You weren’tthatbad.”
Mirabelle sucks at lying.
“Except I was.” I snort, shaking my head. I appreciate her trying to make me feel better, but I was an ass. “Where are you going to stay tonight?”
Mirabelle shrugs, looking away. “I’ll probably end up staying in a hotel or at Uncle Owen’s. Aunt Blake has an event for her firm tonight, or they’d be here instead of you. I’m sorry my parents called you—”
“I’m not sorry they called me,” I interrupt her. “Stay with me at my house. I’ve got plenty of room,” I offer without thinking it through. I probably should ask Wilson if he’s okay with it, but I’d rather she stay with us than in a hotel by herself if there’s a potential arsonist on the loose.
Her eyebrows skyrocket upward in surprise. “Are you sure? You don’t have to offe—”
“I know I don’t have to, but I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t serious, Mira. I have a spare bedroom Kaitlyn uses when she visits, I’m sure she won’t mind.”
“Henry . . .” Mirabelle looks unsure, twisting her hands.
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”
Her eyes are searching my face for something before she nods slowly. “It’ll only be until I find a place. Thank you,” Mirabelle says, and her parents pull into the cul-de-sac, barely having time to park the car before Thalia is climbing out to hug Mirabelle tightly.
I hang back, letting them have their moment as a family, and take the opportunity to call Wilson. It’s not like he pays rent or anything, so I shouldn’t feel bad for extending the offer without checking with him.
Wilson sends me to voicemail, and I roll my eyes, calling him again. I’m sure his ass is still glued to the couch, and this will be easier to say over the phone than to explain in a text. He finally answers, irritation seeping into his voice. “What could you possibly need right this second? The game just went into extra innings,” he grumbles.
“I need you to put fresh towels and an extra set of my clothes on the bed in Kait’s room. I told Mirabelle she could stay with us until . . . well, I guess my offer doesn’t have an expiration date. Is that okay with you?”
“Why does she need to stay here?”
“Because someone tried to burn the Walkers’ house down tonight.” The words almost stick in my throat. It’s hard to say. I mean, what the hell would possess someone to do this?
“Oh shit. Yeah, of course. I’m cool with her staying here as long as she needs.”
Thalia and Mirabelle approach me as Sebastian heads toward a cluster of police officers. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it. I gotta go, I just wanted to check with you quick.”
