It was warming up inside the car. Alene searched for Kacey and Kofi through the car window and the construction fence, but there was a jungle of trees and bushes lining the sidewalk. The post-fire building site was probably soggy and disgusting. If only she’d thought of bringing an old blanket to protect the back seat from burnt wood.

Kacey startled Alene by opening the passenger door and jumping back in. “He doesn’t need my help,” Kacey said as she used her shirt to clean her glasses. “We were looking for a way to get into the site and my glasses got too smudged for me to see. I’ll stay in here with you.”

Kofi had probably circled the tall fence surrounding piles of wet, muddy, and burned wood, trying to get inside. Moments later, they heard an owl hoot, and Kacey whispered it was Kofi letting them know that he’d gotten past the fence. What if tromping through the remains of the fire exposed Kofi to toxic materials? He wore gloves and a mask, but it wasn’t an N95 with protection against particulates. If paper masks didn’t protect against airborne particulates, how could they protect against a cunning virus?

The sun had risen, but a scrim of humidity diffused the light. Alene thought she saw Kofi alternating between moving and crouching. She figured he was trying to be invisible. He was lanky, his legs bulging with muscles from years of riding his bicycle for miles through and around the city. They both lost sight of him for about ten minutes, but suddenly he rushed back to the car and jumped into the back seat. He hadn’t taken a single piece of wood. “How was it?” Kacey asked.

Alene heard Kofi’s jagged breathing and turned around to watch him pull off his gloves and hat. “It was, um, weird and chilly,” he said, haltingly. “And there wasn’t anything I could use.” His focus was sideways, out the window, and he seemed tense. Alene turned away, imagining one of Frank’s police friends driving by and stopping to ask what she was doing. They drove home in silence and trudged to the elevators. Kofi, usually cheerful after an expedition to find materials, was unreadable and oddly stone-faced as he thanked Alene for the ride. Kacey mouthed her thanks as she unlocked her door, and Alene held her hand to her ear in a sign for Kacey to call later.

Alene unlocked her own door, wondering why Kofi hadn’t found even one usable piece of wood. Before she could take off her jacket, her phone rang.

“Kofi wants you to promise not to tell Frank about this morning,” Kacey said in a whisper. It seemed unnecessary; it wasn’t as if Kofi had started the fire, and Frank was a homicide detective, not a cop on the lookout for arsonists.

“I can’t promise that. We tell each other everything,” said Alene, “But there’s nothing to tell, because Kofi came up empty.”

“He’s worried that someone saw us there and the police will get him for trespassing,” said Kacey. Alene could hear her sniffling.

Alene had already frittered away forty-five minutes driving them over there and waiting for Kofi to hunt for wood. “Come on, Kacey,” she said. “We didn’t see anyone, and no one saw us.”

“But are you going to tell Frank that we were there?” Kacey asked.

“Kacey, Frank would never do anything to hurt me or the people I love.” Being with Kacey had always required patience. “And I’m driving the getaway car, so if we were committing a crime, I’d be just as guilty.”

Kacey said, “I hope you’re right.” She sounded more than a little paranoid.

***

Excerpt from Charred by GP Gottlieb. Copyright 2026 by GP Gottlieb. Reproduced with permission from GP Gottlieb. All rights reserved.