I could smell it when I got off the train. The smoke and gravel. Fire trucks had gathered. All red and shiny. Why should they be shiny? I could hear the water dripping through the roof. My sister lied. The whole side of the house is black. Windows are blown out. And the attic is toast. Excuse the pun. Why did she say smoke damage? When it’s clearly more than just smoke. My mother asks for one. I say but you’ve given up. She says she needs a smoke. I let her have one. I hear the dogs howling from the neighbour’s. They want to come home. But there’s nothing left.