I step onto the grass and gawk. The heat is immense, even from here it warms my face. Black smoke rushes up to the sky. The neon orange flames are mesmerizing. I tear my gaze away to look at Drake, who is smoking casually, like he’s outside of a convenience store.
“Drake.”
“Yeah?” he says.
My throat is dry and I swallow to try and generate some spit. “What did you use?”
He takes a drag and exhales. The question lingers like the smoke in the autumn air. “Kerosene.”
I gasp. “You didn’t.” Goosebumps break out across my skin despite the inferno across the yard. “When you called me to say that the Beauchamp place was on fire, I was wondering what you were doing in this part of town, but I never… Drake tell me you didn’t.”
“No, I did.”
I feel dizzy. “Drake.” The word sound weak, helpless, and I hate it.
Drake exhales again. “It was killing me, knowing you have to drive past this house every time you go to work or your mother’s house. It also kills me, knowing that someone else is going to buy this house and live it. Someone having their kids opening Christmas presents on the same floor those assholes raped you on?” Drake clutches his fist and his knuckles turn white.
I say nothing. It feels like someone is sitting on my chest.
He exhales a ragged breath and release his fist. “The Beauchamp brothers are in jail, but they can’t arrest a house. I saw it was up for sale. Knew what I had to do. Hell, if the police hadn’t hauled the brothers off to jail, they’d find their bodies in there too once things settled.”  Drake finishes his cigarette and puts it out with his foot.
I’m not sure if I want to cry or have a panic attack. I wait for the flashbacks to come, but they don’t. Instead, I kneel down and push Drake’s foot aside to pinch the cigarette butt in my fingers. “Take this with you. They’ll think it’s evidence.”
Drake nods and puts it in his pocket. “Good thinking.”

I sit down on the grass and watch the house burn. The flames have plenty to eat and are having a splendid time. “Kinda pretty.”
“It is. I think the porch is about to go,” Drake notes.
“Yeah.” I tilt my head. “Guess someone finally called the fire department.”
Drake chuckles. “Good thing about a rural volunteer fire department – they sure do take their time.”
“Do we need to leave before they get here?”
“You should probably move your car or else you’re going to get trapped by the trucks.”
“That’s a good idea.” I don’t want to get up, but the sirens are getting louder. I jump in my car and pull it around the block. When I jog back up to the property, the fire engine pulls up. Drake has moved to opposite side of the street with other gawkers. I join him. I reach for his hand. Drake squeezes it and the warmth circulates back into my fingers. 

The porch collapses with a spectacular crash and a shower of sparks. A murmur of awe goes through the small crowd of onlookers. There’s flames are coming out of every window now. The air is ashy and acrid, but for the first time, I feel like I can breathe.
It’s going to be a total loss. What a shame.

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Captions are fictional.