Free Out of the Ashes by Valerie Sherrard

feel afraid not knowing where the fire starter might strike next. My steps were slow as I considered these things, which is probably the only reason I noticed a dark splash on the snow just around the corner from the fire.
    It was one of those things that jump out at you because they don’t fit. We’d had a fresh snowfall that morning, and everything was hidden under its soft white covering. The dark patch didn’t belong, and for that reason I went over to see what it was.
    I couldn’t quite make it out, because of the way it was lying in a crumpled little heap, so I leaned down and picked it up.
    â€œA mitten,” I said out loud, feeling foolish at the discovery. “It’s just a mitten.” For a second I’d felt like a detective finding an important piece of evidence, only to realize it was nothing at all. I was going to toss it back on the snow so its owner might find it again. My mom used to get annoyed when I was little because I was always losing mitts and gloves.
    Then I noticed an unmistakable smell and lifted it to my nose, just to be sure. Yes, it was gasoline! I knewI should turn right around and take it to the police, and it was probably stupid not to. But by then I’d realized something else about it.
    It was probably the upset of the evening, first Nick not coming back and then the fire in the Lawfords’ garage, that had kept me from making the connection right away. Something about the mitt had seemed familiar, but it hadn’t registered immediately.
    It had the same strange design as the pair of mittens Greg Taylor had been wearing when we’d been building the snow sculpture at my place at Christmas. This one was different colors, navy with gold and green, but the pattern was identical.
    I’m not sure how long I stood there before I could finally make my legs move again. So many thoughts ran through my mind that my head was starting to spin.
    â€œ My dad knitted them .”
    Greg’s words echoed in my brain. I felt like crying. Mr. Taylor was such a nice man, and yet there, a short distance away from the latest scene of a fire, was a mitten that he had made.
    It was still in my hand when I got home, and I knew there was no way I could take it into the house without Mom finding it. She has a nose on her like you wouldn’t believe, and she’d have noticed the smell and sniffed it out inside of ten minutes. I had to hide it somewhere else.
    The storage shed out back would have been a good place, but Dad hadn’t shovelled it out today. If I took it there my footprints would only make him ask what I’d been doing out in the shed. Hiding a piece of evidence in a crime was bad enough, I didn’t want to have to start lying to my parents too.
    Finally, I shoved it under the back step, thinking I’d find a better place for it later on. Or maybe I’d end up taking it to the police and telling them that I’d found it near the fire. It would be hard to explain why I hadn’t turned it in right away, but I didn’t want to think about that right then.
    It was way past eleven by then, and I was hoping the folks would be asleep. No such luck. Dad flung open the door before I even had a chance to touch the knob. His face was worried and relieved all at the same time.
    â€œShelby! At last! Where on earth have you been, child?”
    â€œI was at Nick’s place, helping him with an essay. I told you after supper, remember?”
    â€œYes. But your mother called there around ten and Mrs. Jarvis told her you’d left. I drove over to their house and back, but there was no sign of you. And now your mother has gone out on foot looking for you.”
    â€œUh, there was a fire a few streets away. I went over to see what was going on. I didn’t realize how late it was.”
    He frowned, but I could tell he’d already heard something about the fire. Or maybe he’d heard the sirens. Either way, he knew I was telling