“There were people on the Ferris Wheel when it happened. The fire crew fought like crazy to keep the flames away from them. Luckily, they all survived. I can’t imagine what that must have been like, trapped in midair like that, watching the flames growing higher, knowing there’s nothing you can do…”

Strange and shocking, how the memories Rose had suppressed all these years—fifteen years or more—tumbled into her mind’s eye like the shards of glassy rocks unearthed and collided by a sudden avalanche of associations. She hadn’t lost anyone close to her that day, but people had died. And “Daddy’s friend”, as Mom had introduced the man who’d accompanied them that day, had lost someone. That much she did remember.

“There was a guy that got burned—I don’t think he made it.” Rose spun her sweaty Pepsi glass with her fingers, trying to summon some detail about the boy, anything that might spark a recollection. She drew a blank. “Hank’s son, right?”

Blythe shifted uncomfortably in her seat, but it wasn’t her heart this time; her color had mostly returned, and she didn’t appear quite so out of breath. Tired, yes, but very much alert and in the conversation. “You have a good memory,” she said. “You only met him that one time—the day he died.”

“I don’t remember anything about him, except…I think he sat next to me on one of the rides. It made me feel really grown up, and I wanted someone from school to see me with him. He was a lot older than me, right?”

“He was in his twenties. His name was Thomas.”

“How did he die?”

“He was watching the magic show in one of the tents when it caught fire. The magician’s assistant was a gorgeous redhead in a skimpy outfit, so naturally, Tom was on the front row. Apparently, he had a thing for redheads.”

“Most guys do.”

“It was what killed him. When the panic started, he was one of the farthest from the exit. The fire spread so quickly, he had no chance. One of the survivors said Tom made a last-ditch attempt to follow the magician and the assistant out through the backstage exit, but he’d left it too late. The tent roof collapsed, burying him in flames. He was burned alive.”

“Jesus.” After downing the last of her Pepsi, “Abraca-freaking-dabra.”

Rose’s mom watched her carefully, appeared to be waiting for some sort of penny to drop. She didn’t elaborate.

“Did the magician and the assistant make it out?”