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.”