Chapter 3 - THE SECOND FIRE
West Arbor belonged to a Constance Systems subsidiary that provided housing near a manufacturing campus.
Oliver’s division managed the contractor network.
The official report blamed an overloaded tenant appliance.
Archie produced maintenance requests instead.
Burning smell near breaker panel.
Repeated power loss.
Request for full electrical inspection.
All marked:
DEFERRED—NONCRITICAL.
Approval code:
OD-OPS.
Oliver Dermit.
Oliver did not deny it.
“We had a contractor assessment. No immediate hazard was identified.”
“By whose contractor?” Lissa asked.
“Metro Facility Group.”
Archie slid another paper across the bench.
Metro’s owner was Oliver’s brother-in-law.
Oliver’s expression finally broke.
“That does not mean the inspection was false.”
“No,” Lissa said. “It means I should have known.”
Insurance delays scattered the affected families after only a few hotel nights. Audrey’s mother remained hospitalized, and several children had nowhere stable to study.
Archie found the warehouse and began repairing discarded company laptops for them.
Lissa looked around.
“You stole the equipment?”
“Discarded assets. Written off.”
Oliver cut in.
“Containing company drives.”
Archie shook his head.
“I wipe every drive before bringing it here.”
“Can you prove that?”
“Yes.”
He opened a laptop and showed disposal logs.
Lissa believed him.
Oliver saw it.
“That doesn’t clear him of the leaked documents.”
Archie looked at Lissa.
“What leaked documents?”
She described the prototype memo.
Archie frowned.
“I’ve never seen it.”
Then Audrey walked over carrying a scorched plastic device.
“Uncle Archie, this keeps blinking.”
Archie took it.
A small smart environmental sensor from West Arbor.
Lissa recognized the model.
“Why do you have that?”
“It survived the apartment fire,” Archie said. “I was trying to recover its local memory.”
Oliver stepped forward too quickly.
“Those sensors are company property.”
Archie looked at him.
“Interesting time to remember ownership.”
Lissa noticed Oliver staring at the device.
Not the children.
Not the folder.
The sensor.
“Can it show what happened?” she asked.
Archie nodded slowly.
“Maybe.”
Oliver said:
“Those units don’t store meaningful fault history.”
Archie looked at him.
“You designed the retention policy.”
Then he smiled without humor.
“So you know exactly what they store.”
Oliver’s face went blank.
May you like
And Lissa understood the sensor might contain more than a fire alarm.
It might contain whoever ignored it.
