Chapter 3 - Safe Harbor
Aunt Clara’s house smelled like cinnamon tea, old paper, and lavender—the exact opposite of smoke, fear, and panic.
By midnight, Noah was asleep in the spare guest room under three heavy quilts, his breathing deep and even. Sophie was curled on the velvet sofa in the living room, her burned rabbit tucked safely under her chin. Clara had scrubbed the soot off the lockbox, which Grant had officially logged and returned to me after verifying the contents were intact.
I sat at Clara’s wooden kitchen table, a steaming mug of tea between my hands, staring out the window at the dark, quiet woods.
"They're going to press charges for the perimeter breach," I said quietly. "Deputy Miller said tampering with a restricted fire scene is a misdemeanor, but because it involved a federal-adjacent insurance investigation report, the prosecutor might push it."
Clara sat across from me, sliding a plate of homemade shortbread cookies toward me. "Let them. Your father has coasted on his golf-club charm and your mother's social maneuvering for sixty years, Erin. It's about time someone pulled the rug out from under them."
She reached across the table and covered my hand with her warm, wrinkled one.
"You know," Clara continued softly, "you spent your whole life bending over backward to fit into their little mold. When you married Ethan, when you bought that house nearby, when you let them walk all over your boundaries—you were hoping that one day, they would look at you and say, 'You're enough.' But they never did, did they?"
Her words hit me with the force of a physical blow. She was right. I had spent decades seeking warmth from an empty fireplace, burning my own peace of mind just to keep them comfortable.
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"When I called them today," I whispered, my voice breaking slightly, "and Mom asked if everyone was okay, then asked if we could just go to a hotel because the catering had arrived... something inside me just snapped. The house burning down felt terrifying, Clara. But walking up to that glass door and seeing them laughing... that was the moment I realized I didn't have a family. I had an audience that only clapped when I played my assigned role."
"Well," Clara smiled, her eyes twinkling with a fierce, defiant spark. "Curtain's down, honey. Time for a new show."
