Shannon wanted to know. “None,” I said flatly. We’d managed to save one person last night, but we hadn’t been there for Dale Graham. If the wicked twelve wanted to make me feel guilty, they’d succeeded. But I knew this wasn’t our fault. Bad things had been happening in Kilmer since before I was born. I was just determined to get to the bottom of it. I stood looking at the smoking ruin of his house on Rabbit Road and wanted to throw up. Nobody suggested I try to read it to find out what happened here. Too much heat remained trapped in the burnt timbers to make it feasible, even if I felt like trying that particular trick again so soon. I didn’t. Volunteer firemen poked through the wreckage, looking for human remains. They seemed inappropriately cheerful, as if they did this all the time. Then again, in Kilmer, they probably did. “Look at the grass and trees around the house,” Jesse murmured. I shifted focus, along with the other two. It hit us all at the same time, but Chance articulated it.
