Page 81 of Under Water

“If you’re thirsty,” she says, sitting in a very squeaky rolling chair and gesturing to the table. “I could also grab you a coffee or⁠—”

“No, thank you.” I sit across from her and take a breath. “I think my nerves have me jumpy enough.”

She nods, then clears her throat and reads me a little speech about being recorded, and I consent on the record before she begins. Her hands are folded on top of what looks like a tablet in a very thick, heavy-duty rubber case. “The fire last night must have been terrifying.”

I can’t really read her tone, and I wonder after a second if I’m a suspect. I fold my hands on the table and try not to look guilty.

I clear my throat. “It was kind of the epitome of suck.”

Her lips twitch like she’s trying to hold back a smile. “You have a teenager.”

“He’s twelve, but yeah, basically.”

“He was in the house when it happened?”

I nod. “He’d just gone to bed. He takes a medication every night that makes him tired.”

“Prescribed?”

“You think I drug my son to sleep?”

The look she gives me is no-nonsense. “I’m not accusing you of anything. These are necessary questions.”

“Right.” I take a breath, then nod. “He has SMA. Uh…spinal muscular atrophy. He was born with it,” I add before she can ask another ignorant question. “He uses a wheelchair to get around, and he has extremely weak muscle tone in his arms and hands. He uses a BiPAP machine to sleep, and the doctor has him on a muscle relaxer to help with his spasms. He had just drifted off when the fire alarm started going off.”

“Your house seems well equipped.”

I lift a brow. “I used to be a firefighter, now I do IT for the fire station. Station nineteen,” I add.

She looks startled. “I see. I’m sorry, that wasn’t in your file. But I just got everything this morning.” She clears her throat again as she lifts up the tablet and scrolls on it for a moment before typing something in. “It says here that you reported the fire to have been started by your husband.”

“Soon-to-be ex,” I clarify. Her expression doesn’t change. “He’s been fighting me on the divorce for years. I finally got him served this week, right before my parents left town. And before you ask, I didn’t see him. But he’s been stalking me and threatening me for a while. We had an altercation the day before the fire.”

“Do you have proof of him stalking and threatening you?”

“I have texts from him. And I found a tracker on my car this morning,” I tell her. “My coworker has it. Uh…station nineteen. I said that already, right?”

She smiles. This time, it looks genuine. “You did.”

“North Wright. He should be there now. You can call and have him bring it down if you want. Not sure you can get anything from it⁠—”

“We can get a lot from it,” she assures me.

“Does it count as illegal if we’re still technically married?”

Her gaze meets mine. “Has your soon-to-be ex-husband ever hurt you before?”

My face goes pink. “I mean…not…well. It’s…” I stop and take another calming breath because I need to tell the truth and not try and cover up for Neal. “He’s never punched me or anything, but he’s put his hands on me, and he can be very verbally abusive.”

“I’m sorry,” she says and sounds like she means it. “Can I assume that’s a reason to believe that you and your son wouldn’t be safe with him?”

“Yes,” I murmur softly.

“And has your son been in contact with his other father⁠—”

“No, he’s not…” I clear my throat and attempt a small smile. “Neal isn’t his dad. I was married to him well after Elio was born.”

She looks relieved and nods. “And they’re not in contact.”