Two. Three. Four. Five. Five seconds pass by. The machine whirrs to life before me.
"Yesterday afternoon, at 5:07 pm, a house on 5th street was in flames. The firefighters arrived later, but, unfortunately, the family's..."
"Oh. That cranky old thing's still running? Good heavens, it's almost a miracle." A mug is set on the nearby table. With a heavy sigh, the couch bends under my father's dead weight.
"Careful. You don't want to ruin the landlord's couch."
He shrugs. "I saw the smoke yesterday. Fire first broke out on their doorstep - I heard from Janet that a few teenagers were scampering away. Kids nowadays!" He huffed.
"Were there any casualties?"
"Quite some. For one, the dog's, deceased as the crowd said."
"For another?"
"Their kid. They must've been targeting him specifically. The corpse was right at the doorstep - and the stab wounds! Oh my..."
I dig my nails into my palm.
"Did you see them?"
"I feared for my dreamless nights to be disturbed by images of gore and charred flesh, so no."
He peels the bark off a tree branch.
I suck in a breath. "Then how come you're not in custody, on trial, or anything?"
His foot grinds against the flaking earth. He sits on a bench's edge and inches backward slowly.
"A girl took all the blame on her."