I straighten up, the image still clutched in my fist. Firefighters are rushing about us, but suddenly I have the urge to protect my family: the image might be fake, but the fact remains, someone wanted to hurt us. I find myself pulling my children against me, kissing the crowns of their heads, watching as Gabe is pushed back, led away by one of the firefighters. Their hoses blast into the blaze and soon it’s only smoke. Smoke, glass, and our house, one corner blackened by flame. Morning is still hours away, as the police arrive. There will be no sleep tonight.

Chapter Six

SIX

‘SO, YOU HEARD a crash – then what?’

We’re all on the curb, one officer is talking to me, another is talking to Gabe. The children are nearby but they’ve separated us to gather statements. The window to my home office was smashed and fire fighters, I’m certain, will confirm the blaze started there. Someone threw something through the window and it set the house on fire. But the first place the police will look is at us, the occupants. I wince, thinking about my locked bureau, the irreplaceable notes from patients that I’ve accumulated through the years. Most I kept here, some at my office and some in storage.

I talk the cop through our night: we didn’t have any candles lit, we didn’t leave any heaters on. No fighting or domestic issues. I hand her the photo I found. She looks at it for a moment, holding it in her latex-gloved hand. Then she looks back to me.

‘It was on your doorstep?’

‘I saw it when we were outside, I wish I hadn’t picked it up— ’ I shake my head.

‘Have you seen this image before?’

‘No,’ I say. ‘Never.’

‘Is there anyone you know that for any reason might want to do this? Any threats, any enemies?’

I can think of a lot of people who would do this in general. Through the years I’ve dealt with verified psychopaths, sociopaths, borderlines and narcissists. But none who would have my address, and none who, as far as I’m aware, would want to hurt me specifically.

‘No,’ I say. ‘No one springs to mind.’

I glance at Gabe. I can see his lips moving, his eyes downcast. Insurance will cover the damage, but how long will it take? Will anything be salvageable inside? How far did the fire spread from my study? And what about all the electrical hazards, the fumes from the fire, the structural integrity? Amongst the barrage of thoughts and concerns, I think about my work. All the clients tomorrow; how will I face the day when the sun rises?