Mom lowered her gaze to the page in her notebook. She began reading, "Items destroyed in the fire: three pairs of ballet flats, ten leotards, seven leggings, and five tutus. There's a huge hole in the carpet, and smoke stained the walls like it's part of the paint." She looked at Dad. "No one would answer me about how the fire started." She looked at Kina and me. "I found the answer. My lighter. Loren, are you ready to talk about what happened?"

I swallowed a knot in my throat and avoided looking over at Dad. I couldn't bear if he harbored disappointment or anger toward me, so I stared at Mom. She was comfortable to look at because I didn't care what she thought of me. I hated her as much as she hated me.

"Loren, I asked you a question," Mom said with disdain in her voice. Dad put his hand on her arm, but her tone didn't soften. "The fire started in your room. It's all your ballet stuff. Ruined. Explain yourself."

I kept staring at her, unblinking.

"Baby girl, it's okay," Dad said. "We just want the truth."

"You won't believe me," I said.

"Of course, I will."

I pouted. "Mom, will you believe me, too?"

"Stop playing games. We will get the answers. I don't care how long we have to stay up, and you two will be going to school tomorrow. Tired in the morning or not."

"I can't go to ballet practice tomorrow," I said.

Mom dropped her notebook on the cushion beside her and folded her arms across her chest. "Excuse me?"

"I can't go to ballet anymore. All of my clothes and ballet flats are ruined."

"Is that why you set your stuff on fire? To get out of ballet?" Mom leaned forward. If Dad wasn't holding her back, I imagine she would've leapt up and strangled me to death.

I slouched in my seat and looked over at Kina. She fidgeted with her hands in her lap.

"I didn't start the fire."

Mom rolled her eyes. "Loren!"

"I told you that you wouldn't believe me."

"Tell us what happened," Dad said. "Please."

I glanced over at him. His eyes were comforting. I inhaled and exhaled, inhaled and exhaled, inhaled and exhaled. No turning back now. "Kina started the fire."

Kina twisted to stare at me. Her mouth formed an "O," but she didn't say anything. She didn't deny the accusation. She didn't accuse me of lying. She just stared at me, bug-eyed.

How much would she let me say before she called me a liar in front of Mom and Dad? "She thought she was helping me. She saw me crying in my room. I told her how I asked to stop my ballet lessons and how Mom said no. She watched me get undressed. She hugged me and told me if my ballet stuff was ruined, then I wouldn't have to go to my dance practices or recitals anymore. So, we piled my clothes on the floor. I thought she was going to help me throw them away, but...she came back with a lighter. Before I could stop her, she set my clothes on fire." I leaned over and gave Kina a hug. A tear formed in my eye. Man, I was good. "She was only trying to help me feel better."

"Kina, is that true?" Mom asked.

Kina bit her nail and squeezed my hand. "Yes."

"Why didn't you speak up earlier?" Mom wasn't going to let this go. Not until she could find a way to find fault in something I did. She had been trying to make me look bad in front of Dad ever since Franco died.

In case Mom asked that of me, I said, "It wasn't my story to tell. Kina did it, so I was waiting for her to say why."

"If I ask you something, especially something important like a freaking fire in your room, then you better answer me."

"I'm sorry. Kina was trying to help me, so I was trying to help her. I was trying to be a good big sister, trying to do what Franco would've done. He wouldn't have ratted me out on anything. He would've encouraged me to speak with you and Dad when I was ready. I'm sorry I upset you, Mom. It was never my intention."

"Kina, is there anything you'd like to say?" Mom said warmly. Her frost was melting.

Kina bit her trembling bottom lip. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"No, I mean, you can tell the truth. You can say what really happened."

Kina looked at me, with confusion written all over her face. Well, I'll be damned. Mom didn't believe me. I would be lying if I said I was surprised.

I frowned and said, "You don't believe me."

"There are two sides to every story."

"Actually, in history class we learned there are three sides to every story. Each person has their own version of events, and the third story lies somewhere in the middle with the truth."

Dad held Mom's hand. I wish he would squeeze it so much that he'd break her hand, so much that her bones would pierce through her skin. "Let it go, baby. Loren's not lying."

"I don't believe Kina would start a fire because Loren was crying. If anything, she would've found me to tell me Loren was sad. She wouldn't have taken matters into her own hands."

"Mom, but I did. I promise. I found your lighter on the bathroom counter near your candle."

"Loren put you up to it. Right?"

Dad shook his head. "Stop, Leilani."

"Not until I hear the truth."

Kina gulped. "It was all me. In fact, Loren had tackled me to the ground to try to stop me."

Dad rubbed his free hand over his face and said, "Baby girls, go upstairs and get ready for school tomorrow. Loren, you'll be staying in Kina's room tonight. You'll be in there for a few nights until your room airs out."

"Yes, sir." Kina and I stood and walked away. Before I could put my foot on the bottom step, Mom called my name. I turned to face her.

Venom burned in her eyes. "While you were avoiding my question all day, I was on the phone with Mrs. Denton. You will go to ballet practice tomorrow. She has an outfit already prepared for you. Afterwards, we'll go shopping for more. You are not getting out of this semester. It's already paid for. The next session we can revisit our earlier discussion to see if you'd like to continue. Good night, Loren."