“Yes. That's it!” Rose pointed above them. “It was up over the entrance to the big tent—the big top—laughing down at us. All the while the fire was burning, that stupid thing was laughing at us. Even during the horrible screams. Then it suddenly stopped. I remember thinking later that I hoped the fire had melted its face. I blamed the clown for the whole thing.” Rose looked to her mother and frowned. “Hank's son didn't come back, but you told me he'd gotten out, that he'd gone home with friends, but I didn't believe you. I had a suspicion he was the boy that got burned. That was the last time I saw him, and I guess the last time I saw Hank.”

Blythe slowly nodded her lament. During the silence that followed, Bellamy wandered off to explore the site. The scorched earth and gravel was the only evidence that the tragic event had ever taken place. Blythe made her way over to Rose and whispered, motioning to Bellamy, “Who does he remind you of?”

Rose shrugged.

“That night was a turning point in our lives,” explained Blythe. “Thomas Bonden wasn't the only casualty of the fire, you know.”

“I don't know anything. I realize that now. Neither of us does,” referring to Andy, who was chatting on his cell, oblivious to everything.

“Hank was injured too. Badly. They rushed him to hospital. I wanted to go with him but I couldn't leave the two of you, so I had no choice but to wait. I called Sylvia and Roy, our old neighbors—you remember them? Anyway, they came as soon as they could, to look after you while I went to see about Hank, but before they got here I felt this sharp pain ripping through my arm and my shoulder. I couldn't stop it. It was a heart attack—a full-on myocardial infarction.”

Rose felt like the life had hastily been sucked from her body, leaving nothing behind but doubt and endless questions. “So that's what brought that on? Now it makes sense. More sense than stress at work, anyway.”

Blythe grabbed her hand and held it tightly before lifting to her lips. “I know. I'm sorry I lied to you, Rose. It's just that…I tried to put that night behind me, out of my mind for good. It was too painful to relive it, not just because of the heart attack, but because it snatched Hank away from me for good and his pain of losing Thomas…I just couldn’t bear it. I was selfish.”

“He didn't die, did he? I thought you said—”

“No, he didn't die. But he was never the same again.”

“What happened?”

Blythe put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. “First I want you to look at him—look really hard.” Again, she drew Rose's attention to Bellamy.

“Okay. This is getting weird, Mom.”