Only when the whole island is lit up by the blaze and sparks fly into the night sky to land on the ground in front of us do we call the fire department. Then we stand there and wait. The air is filled with the sound of wood splitting, glass smashing, and flames raging. Every now and again the building lets out a low groan as walls cave in and floors buckle. I am watching the slow, violent death of my cottage. Losing my beloved Avril Island for the second time.

Tears stream down Ezra’s face. Somehow, I’m dry-eyed. Maybe I’m just happy to be alive. Maybe after all the truth I’ve learned since coming back here, I’m finally ready to let the island go. To bury the past in the ashes that she will become.

I don’t tell Ezra that his father died on Avril Island as well. I don’t tell him anything. We stand in silence until the fire department arrives. I give them a partial truth about taking care of Ezra’s mother, who suffered from dementia; about how I left her on her own for a short time and came back to find the fire. How we tried to get her out but were too late.

They examine me and tell me to go to the hospital. I lie and say that I will. Then I lead Ezra away, down to the dock. When we get back to his place, he doesn’t come up to the boathouse with me. He goes into the stone cottage, telling me he needs some time alone. I let him go, understanding the need to grieve in private better than I ever wanted to. He’s stunned and still in shock. I know the feeling well. I know that it will pass, leaving only deep sorrow behind, which will not pass; it will turn to scar tissue that will throb when it rains and burn with movements that are too quick.

I get myself into the shower. I’m covered in the dirt of Ezra’s father’s grave and coated with smoke and soot from the fire that killed his mother. The water quickly washes all of this away, but it’s a superficial cleansing. I will never really be clean of their deaths; they will haunt me forever. Crouching down in the shower, I put my head between my knees and finally cry.

Fire dreams and the scent of burning skin jolt me awake. I could only have been sleeping for a couple of hours. Once again I’ve spent the night on Ezra’s couch, falling in and out of a trouble sleep. It’s morning now, the sun streaming through the window giving the false impression that it’s just any other day.