Explosive

"I'll call Carter and arrange to move in on Elias in the morning," said Harold.

"Fine," said Dad quickly. "I'll bring Katherine here, and she can sit tight while you coordinate."

"That's fine, Mr. Reese." As much as they tried to appear calm, I could see that both Mr. H and my dad were excited and agitated. My father's voice was just slightly louder than usual, and Harold's hands were fidgeting nervously with things on his desk.

"I'll take Katherine home now," said Dad. "We haven't eaten. Do you want anything, Finch?"

"No, it's all right," said Harold absently, "I have a great deal to prepare."

I listened and heard my dad say the word "home" and instantly perked up, wondering if he meant my real home, the one I had shared with Aunt Judy and Uncle Robert. As much as I loved Harold's things, I wanted to go back and retrieve some of my own possessions—my sketchbooks and journal and my favorite purple sweater in particular.

I walked over to Harold's desk and worked up the courage to ask. "Dad?" His eyes were on me instantly, alert and attentive. "Do you mean my house—I mean, where my stuff is? Could we go there?"

My father and Harold stared at me, and neither one of them said anything. I wondered if I had said something wrong. Maybe I wasn't supposed to ask things like that. I started to think of how to apologize, how to fix it and make them like me again.

"That's not possible, sweetheart." My dad's voice was very soft and very calm. He took my right hand in both of his and held it gently. "When your aunt and uncle passed away, the house was damaged, too."

"How bad?" My voice sounded like it belonged to someone else.

"It's all gone," he said simply, his eyes bleak as they looked into mine.

I jerked my hand away, my instinct to flee. There was nowhere to go that wasn't part of the library, no room where I could hide behind a closed door. Instead, I folded my arms around myself and felt hot, silent tears fill my eyes and spill over my cheeks. I felt sick as the realization of everything I had lost washed over me, and I doubled over, sobbing noiselessly. Now I didn't just feel like I'd lost two people; I felt like I'd lost my entire life.

In an instant, my dad knelt on the floor in front of me and pulled me into his arms so that I could cry into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I've got you." I thought I would never stop crying. I felt so full of tears that it seemed impossible that they would ever dry up. After a long time, though, my sobs were followed by hard breathing and finally a flat, empty calm. I didn't want to let go of my dad, to ever pull away and have to face the ugly, destructive world. I wished I could stay in his warm arms forever.

I think my father would have held me all night if I'd let him, but I finally straightened up and looked over at Harold, who wasn't doing anything except watching us, a pained expression on his face. I tried to smile at him, but my mouth wouldn't cooperate.

Dad stood up and took my hand. "Let's go." I nodded wearily, and we left, not speaking as we rode the elevator down to the empty first floor and hailed a cab on the street. As we sat down in the backseat, I heard my stomach growl loudly. I hadn't noticed before that I was hungry, but it seemed like all of my crying had emptied me not only of liquid but also of nourishment. I was starving.

"Does anything sound good to eat?" my dad asked, still holding my hand as we rode in the cab. "Mexican?" I asked. It was my favorite, besides pizza.

"Sure," said Dad, "anything you want." He leaned forward and gave the driver a different address. When he sat back in his seat, I scooted into the middle and leaned against him, wanting to crawl back inside the warmth that had encircled me while I cried. I wasn't used to love like that, the kind that gives and gives and doesn't ask anything in return. Once again, he put his strong arm around me. "Katherine," he said, "it's ok to be upset or angry about what happened. You can tell me."

"Ok," I said, grateful. For the moment, I was flat and empty and spent inside, but I was glad not to be alone.