Dr Betah was a stiff looking woman. Her arms were crossed tightly over one another and her mouth was pierced into a pout. She looked like a spitting image of a ballet dance teacher apart from the fact she was in a lab coat and she was a doctor.

I approached her carefully expecting the worst to come.

"What do you think you were doing in there?" She began, and I looked to Martha for help. She wore the same pout on her face because she had warned me not to go in there. I was on my own.

"I'm sorry, I really wanted to see him."

"Well, seen him you have!" She spluttered, evidently shocked at my lack of respect for her patients.

"And what do you suppose could've happened if your father had a mental illness? Or a disease?"

"I don't know." I hadn't thought of that point.

"You could've been injured. That's what!" She seemed to be more afraid than angry.

"Now. I don't want our brave hero getting hurt okay? You have already been through a lot; I don't want you going through anything else." Her tone softened as if she was chiding a small child but she took pity on them.

You know when you have a beloved pet that does something wrong and you have to tell them off but they look so innocent? She spoke to me in that kind of voice.

"This will be our little secret okay? Only you, me, and Martha will know about this. Now. I hear you want to visit your house do you? Yes, yes you can hear all conversations through this window. We have a microphone wired up in there!" She seemed to have great pride in telling me how she can disturb people's privacy.

"You may go to your house if you like. I have called the investigators to prepare for your arrival and Martha here will come with you. Is that what you would like?"

I was speechless and so I did the last thing I would do which was hug her. She was beside herself and she merely patted me on the back before sending me away.

***

My house looked horrific. The roof had completely vanished and it was replaced with burnt, near to crumbling wooden beams; while the lower half of the house was completely intact as if nothing had happened and it was still a complete house.

Not looking where I was going, I stepped towards the site- never letting my eyes stray from the roof.

"Allora? It is Allora am I not mistaken?" A young man in his mid 20s approached me. He had blonde hair, a crooked nose and a forced smile but his voice was kind and welcoming. His eyes were green like the colour of my slightly burnt front lawn.

"Yes... I am Allora. Who are you?"

"My name is Billie. I'm the chief investigator." He spoke promptly in a posh southern voice before launching into an update on the house.

"Upstairs is very unstable. Investigators must go with a rope on them in case the floor breaks beneath their feet. We have several ideas for what could have caused the fire, if you'd like to follow me." He took me to a small white table which had five objects on it: Straighteners; a cooking pan; a candle burner; an electric blanket; and... a match.

"How..." I began, but Eric was one step ahead of me.

"The straighteners were not switched off; the cooking pan was left on a hot plate- you know the part of the oven that heats the pans up- the candle burner's candle was not put out properly and the electric blanket was not switched off."

"All at once?" To me it seemed a little absurd that all of these objects were left on at the same time.

"Yes, I was suspicious too. It seems that... no. No. I am getting ahead of things."

"What?" I used a tone in my voice that said: 'don't hide anything from me'. The man got the message but still refused to tell me. I was going to come back to this hidden information, but in the meantime I asked a different question.

"Where exactly did you find all of these items?"

"The straighteners were in the master bedroom; the candle burner was in a child's room- yours I presume; the cooking pan was in the kitchen and the electric blanket was in the child's room. Where were you the evening before the fire? Who cooked dinner?"

It took me a while to form my answer while I thought of the facts.

"Earlier that morning I had used the straighteners to try them out- I had never straightened my hair before! I could have sworn I turned the electric blanket off; and... I cooked dinner for the first time. I most definitely put out the candle burner after I turned off the electric blanket and I dampened the match with water before putting it in the bin!" I promised.

"Are you telling me... that all of these mistakes were of your own doing?"

"... Yes." I admitted.

"Did you know the dangers of these objects? Were your parents supervising you? Who else was in the house?"

"Yes, I knew the dangers of the objects! No... my parents weren't supervising me because I have done it before! Oh, and in the house that night there was my mother, father, myself and 3 of my friends. My parents had arranged a dinner and a film night."

"And who were these friends? Did they go upstairs? What did you do?"

"My friends were... Lillian Manson, Christina Adamson, and Charlie Manson. I showed them my electric blanket and I had used the burner to make my room smell nice."

Eric looked at me as if I were lying.

"Hmm..." he said.

"What was it you were going to say?"

"No, no, it was nothing. Forget about that." He flapped his hands at me as if trying to remove the conversation from the air.

"If it wasn't important then you could tell me couldn't you?" I tried.

"No! No. My word is final. Come back after school tomorrow and I may have some suspects or some more information for you. For now, I need to work things out."

I sighed and left the site with Martha who had been listening intently to the conversation. We headed back to her car we came in, reviewing what he said.

"So who do you think did it?"

"Oh... I don't know. Maybe it was one of my friends? Maybe father or mother? I just don't know." I was trying to ignore the fact that most of the objects that caused the fire were mine.

The only thing that put me off this pessimistic thought was the statement of Billie's. Just as we were leaving and heading to the car, he said something so quietly it was almost inaudible over the sound of my footsteps on the road. I believed he must have thought I was out of earshot- for Martha didn't hear it... but I did.

"5 objects at once? This was no accident. No accident at all..."