Chapter Three
Gavin
“We live here.” Twyla replied, then sobbed. “It’s all my fault.”
“No, it’s not.” Aaron opened his arms, and to my surprise Twyla flew into them. Our teenage nemesis. The object of my fantasies, and the source of intense angst.
“What do you mean it’s not?” Twyla sniffed, then gazed up at Aaron. “I burnt some, uh, stuff on the fire escape, and I thought it was out when I went to sleep, but…”
“The fire started in a fuse box. It’s the wiring. None of this is your fault. It’s just a coincidence.” Aaron said, and Twyla backed out of his embrace. He locked eyes with me and bit his lower lip. “We checked out the wiring in other apartments while we were inside. Your building isn’t up to code. It’s the landlord's fault.”
“Oh my God.” I muttered. “Poor Mrs. Fisher. I wonder
