The cold wind rustled the overgrown weeds of the backyard, but the true chill came from the child trembling against my chest.

“David! Marcus!”

Julian’s voice boomed from the other side of the thick wooden door, dripping with cold, terrifying amusement.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice the motion sensors I installed along the fence line after your little rescue mission today?” Julian called out.

I threw my shoulder against the shed door, but it was solid oak, reinforced with heavy iron hinges. It didn't budge an inch.

“Julian!” I roared, pounding my fists against the wood. “It’s over! We have your records! We know who you are!”

“Records mean nothing if no one is left to present them in court,” Julian replied smoothly. “I must admit, David, you’ve made this surprisingly convenient for me. A father returns to the home of his ex-wife, breaks into the property with a accomplice, and starts a fire out of grief and rage... It’s a tragic story, really.”

Through the gaps in the wooden planks, I caught the sudden, sharp scent of gasoline.

“He’s pouring fuel!” Marcus yelled, shining his flashlight around the interior of the shed. “David, help me with this wall!”

Outside, we heard the splash of liquid hitting the lower base of the shed, followed by the metallic click of a Zippo lighter.

“Goodbye, David,” Julian’s voice drifted away. “Give my regards to the bottom of the pool.”

FWOOSH!

A wall of yellow and orange flame ignited instantaneously around the front door. Smoke began pouring through the cracks between the floorboards, thick, acrid, and blinding.

“The back window!” I shouted, coughing violently as the heat hit my face.

In the back corner of the shed was a tiny, high-set window, barely eighteen inches wide, covered with a rusted wire mesh.

Marcus slammed the crowbar into the frame, splintering the old wood. Sparks showered down on us as the roof beams above began to catch fire. The heat became unbearable, blistering the skin on my arms.

“Push!” Marcus screamed, driving his shoulder into the frame. The entire wooden mesh burst outward, opening a hole to the rainy night air.

“Go! Get out!” I shoved Marcus toward the opening. He scrambled up, forced his upper body through the tight frame, and tumbled out into the mud behind the shed.

I grabbed the waterproof firebox and the red notebook, shoving them into Marcus’s hands through the window.

The roof above me groaned. A burning beam snapped, dropping a shower of embers onto my back. Pain shot through my shoulder. I gritted my teeth, grabbed the edges of the window frame, and hauled myself upward with every ounce of strength I had left.

Just as the entire front of the shed collapsed inward in a roar of flames, I threw myself out the window, rolling into the wet grass outside.

We lay there for a second, gasping for air, rain washing the soot from our faces.

Across the lawn, the back door of the house was wide open.