The flames catch the end of a pale panel of curtains above the sofa’s left arm, licking their way up the fabric. He would do anything to capture the colors, bottle them: the bluish bud at the center, the yellows and oranges that change to red. He coughs again, gasping now, knowing he should leave but unable to look away. He takes one last look at the fire, admiring what he’s created, then finds the back door, draws the fresh air into his lungs. He vaults himself over the sagging chain-link fence, and runs, flinging open his arms, feeling a little lighter, free.

LILY

ON MY NEXT SHIFT I waited until Emily was on her lunch break, then clicked around on the security system to see if there was any chance of looking at the archived footage—the system let me access the past twenty-four hours, but nothing beyond that without a supervisor’s password. We were able to access the hotel’s records to help with our scheduling and billing, but we could only see who was in the hotel at that moment—not who had stayed in the past or when. Just in case, I searched the name “Peaches,” but as I suspected would happen, the system didn’t turn up any results. Clara had wanted me to text her, though I found myself holding out. I was worried that once I told her I didn’t have news she could use, she would bail. And I wanted to keep her close, watch over her. I couldn’t stop picturing that man who had come into her shop. Couldn’t stop picturing Steffanie, the way that, before that night at the club, she used to snort when she laughed.

I was struggling, too, to find anything else about the artist and the paintings from Mil’s. I had gone back to her house to take photos on my phone. As I crossed the street, I’d worried that they wouldn’t be as striking as I remembered, that I had only been impressed by them because they’d been so unexpected.

Mil surprised me by greeting me with a hug. She was wearing a stack of bangles that clacked against my spine.

“Sorry, I’ve got my armor on today.”

“Oh, do you have plans? I can come back another time.”

“Not at all. But you know how it is. Some days you just need a little … fortification. I’m so glad you like those paintings, but it makes me miss my husband is all.”

“Oh Mil, I’m so sorry. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Don’t be silly. He would love this, a professional like you taking an interest in his stuff.”