“There was screaming, crying, complete strangers holding onto one another. It was chaotic. I had no idea how I had gotten from the table I was sitting at to the center of the room. We were all huddled together, parents trying to hush the sound of their young children’s whimpers and cries. I remember being chilled to the core, my entire body trembling. I had no idea what was going on, but I knew I didn’t want to die. I was only sixteen. I hadn’t even gotten my driver’s license yet. I hadn’t asked a girl out to prom. Hell, I hadn’t even had sex. I hadn’t lived.”

“Charlie, I…,” I whispered, feeling his pain, his suffering, his overwhelming panic as if he were reliving that moment all over again.

“Yes?”

I let out a long breath, finally putting together the pieces of Charlie, wishing I had known all of this when we were together. Perhaps things would have ended differently.

“Why didn’t you say anything before? When we were together? Maybe–”

“I didn’t want to burden you with my past, Kenzie,” he explained. “I knew who you were and that you were trying to deal with your own past. The last thing I wanted to do was saddle you with the trauma I was still dealing with.”

“I remember you having nightmares.” My voice was barely above a whisper as my brain rewound to waking up to Charlie flailing in bed, screaming about being burned. I had always thought it was simply from his time with the army. I never would have guessed it was something bigger…something so much worse.

“My dad saw how scared I was,” he said, clearing his throat. “How scared we both were.”

“You and your sister?”

“Yeah,” he choked out. “Brooke… She was two years younger than I was. She… She didn’t make it.”

“But you did,” I said, trying to encourage him to finish his story.

“I remember my dad wrapping me in his coat, shielding me as a liquid was poured over everyone. A man with a deep, throaty voice was shouting about trust. How without trust, we would all be left burned, scarred…the bond incinerated. I felt a heat unlike anything I had before. It was an inferno, a distinct smell surrounding me, and I knew… That liquid poured over us was gasoline. This sick bastard was burning us alive.”

I gasped. Although Tyler had told me bits and pieces about what happened, hearing someone relive it was so much more intense than I could imagine.

“I don’t know how, but I remember being pushed from the flames and crawling under the cover of heavy wool or tweed or something. I was fighting for clean air, choking on smoke, my lungs on fire. I remember craving water, something to put out the inferno raging inside me. My vision grew blurry, my legs weak, and I collapsed, praying my death would be quick and painless. Suddenly, an arm grabbed onto mine and I looked up, unable to focus on the face. For years, I searched my memory trying to recreate that face but I couldn’t.”

“But…,” I prodded, able to sense there was more.

“After college, I enlisted and eventually got reassigned to Cryptology. It didn’t take me long to realize nothing is what it seems. When a friend of a friend started asking about a girl named Serafina Galloway, I looked up the file. I was hesitant to go any further once I realized who Serafina Galloway really was. The daughter of the man responsible for my family’s death… The dragon. Of course, it wasn’t public knowledge, but it was fairly well-known within the intelligence community that Colonel Galloway was responsible for orchestrating hundreds of arms deals and the attack on the embassy.

“As I scanned through photo after photo in his file, I noticed something…a black onyx ring on his right hand. I remembered that ring. I had clutched onto that hand as I was pulled from the smoke. It was such a unique piece, I knew he had to be the person who rescued me from the fire. I pulled up all the files pertaining to the investigation into Galloway after the embassy attack, then reached out to the agent in charge. He indicated he had the same concerns but his hands were tied. He was told to close the case and keep his findings classified. Apparently, the army didn’t want a black mark on its face and wanted to keep Galloway’s alleged activities buried. They were all convinced he had died in the attack anyway.

“I contacted other people named in the investigation, but they all gave me the same response…almost to the word. This didn’t sit right with me, but I had exhausted all my resources. Then I realized there may be someone else who could help answer some of my questions.”

“And who’s that?”

He sighed. “Your mother. I went to talk to her.”

I closed my eyes, remaining mute.

“It was a few weeks later that she…” He trailed off. “I am so sorry, Mackenzie. I can’t help but think if I didn’t… Someone may have been tipped off that I was looking into Galloway, and maybe they followed me to her. I don’t know. It wasn’t until the night I was taken away that I realized I was being set up and someone was tasked with silencing your mother, too.”

Listening to him speak about those last few weeks reopened old wounds I never allowed to fully heal. But as much as I wanted to blame Charlie for it, like I had done for years, I just couldn’t. Not anymore. “What did you talk to her about?” I swallowed hard, trying to hide my unsteady tone.

“The time leading up to the attack on the embassy. Your father. It was during this conversation I realized he was still alive.”

“How? I didn’t even know he–”

“It was the way she spoke of him,” he interrupted. “I’ve studied human behavior and responses. People respond a certain way when speaking of someone who’s no longer with us. Your mother displayed none of those characteristics when speaking of your father. She responded as one may when talking about someone they see on a somewhat routine basis. She spoke of him in the present tense. That usually only happens when someone just died. However, at this point, he had allegedly been dead for eight years. Surely, she would have been speaking of him in the past tense. I pushed her to disclose his location and she denied he was alive, just as you did. A few days later, she called, asking me to meet her at a location several hours out of town. It was the same day I was taken away. The same day she…” His voice grew quiet. “All I can think is someone knew about us and was trying to keep us from helping each other figure out the truth of what really happened all those years ago.”

“And what’s that?”

He sighed. “I still don’t have a fucking clue. I’m trying, Mack, but I’m no closer to finding out who’s behind it than I was years ago. All the physical evidence still points–”

“To my father.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe he is behind it all,” I offered. As much as I didn’t want to think my father could be capable of committing such a heinous crime, I couldn’t disregard what years of investigations had concluded. “I have no idea what evidence there is either way, but I can’t help but want to put faith in our criminal justice system.”

“Well, you shouldn’t, Mack. The decisions made in law enforcement offices across the country…fuck, the world…are nothing but power plays done for political gain. It’s all about public appearance in the press, making the concerned citizens believe that something’s actually being done to put a stop to rampant criminal behavior. So they find someone to pin crimes on…”

“You expect me to believe everyone who is arrested is innocent?” I asked, my voice heavy with disbelief. “I highly doubt that, Charlie.”

“I’m not saying that, Mack. I’m just saying that, in high profile cases, ones with a lot of public attention, you have to take everything you learn from the media with a grain of salt. Hell, they think I’m responsible for killing over a dozen people. Their only evidence? A web blog and some phony visitation records. Anyone with decent computer skills could have faked that.”