“Tell me where,” Maya said.
Elias drew a breath. She could hear traffic behind him, then a door closing.
“You have to listen all the way through.”
“I'm listening. Tell me where.”
“Eleven twenty-eight. There will be a fire.”
Maya opened the incident entry. Imani turned toward her.
“Where?”
“I can't tell you yet.”
“You can. You've called me to do it.”
“If you send people too early—”
“If you know what's going to happen, why don't you stop it?”
“Because I'm calling to keep Rae alive.”
For a moment Maya could hear only him. The voices around her went flat and distant. She had imagined the answer would make his first two warnings understandable. Instead it made Nora's one shoe, Daniel's medicine packet, and Rae's cereal bowl lie together in her mind with no space between them.
“Where is she?” she asked.
Elias gave her own address.
She stood so fast the chair struck the desk behind her. Her private phone was already in her hand.
“My daughter is there,” she told Imani. “This is my residence. Elias Vale is my former husband. You need to take it.”
“Luis has the response. Give us the details.”
Maya repeated the address and the time, the suspected control, Rae's presence and the message saying the heater was off. She made herself say off rather than safe.
Rae answered. “I'm about to leave. What's wrong?”
“Go outside now.”
“Mom?”
“Dad called. He says a fire at my address at eleven twenty-eight.”
A small sound came through the line. Rae had put something down.
“I've isolated the heater.”
“I know. Go outside.”
“My bag—”
“Leave it.”
“I have it. I'm holding it.”
Maya wanted to reach into the phone and lift her out. Instead she listened to each footstep. A latch moved. The front door opened and Rae's breathing changed in the cold air.
“I'm on the porch.”
“Across the street, please.”
“What did he say?”
“The time and the address. I asked him why he didn't stop it. He said he was calling to keep you alive.”
“Me?”
“He hasn't told me what he heard.”
Rae walked. Maya heard a car pass and somebody ask her a question. “The neighbor wants to know why I'm standing here,” Rae said.
“Tell her a fire concern has been reported. Help is coming. You don't know there's a fire now.”
“I can tell her that.” Her voice sharpened, familiar even in fear.
“I'm sorry.”
“Mom. Not now.”
On the other line, Elias was still connected. Maya put him on speaker long enough for Imani to hear him.
“She's out,” Maya said.
“You don't understand what I'm telling you.”
“Then tell Imani the rest.”
“Maya—”
“Is there somebody else in the house?” Imani asked.
“No. No, it's Rae.”
“Have you seen smoke or an active fault?”
“I heard—” He stopped. “I haven't seen it.”
On her cell phone, Maya heard Rae ask, “Can you ask him whether I did something wrong?”
Maya shut her eyes. “He hasn't given us a cause.”
“I took it out of use. I checked without running it. I'm trying to understand what he thinks will burn.”
“That's all we know,” Maya said. “He called at the same minute. He named this house. The other two emergencies happened.”
“I know. You told me.”
“I've told you everything he's said tonight.”
Rae breathed in. “Good.”
It didn't sound good. It sounded like a word she could hold while there was nothing else to do.
Elias told Imani he would come to the house. Maya heard the clatter of keys again and felt a brief unreasonable rage that he could do something with his feet while she had to sit still.
“Don't go into it,” Imani told him. “Give any hazard information to the crew.”
Maya ended his connection. Luis was handling the incident. Imani remained beside him, leaving Maya with her daughter and the minutes ahead.
“Are you alone?” Maya asked.
“The neighbor's here. Her name is Mrs. Chen. She's put slippers on the wrong feet.”
Maya let out a sound that was almost laughter.
“She's worried about you,” Rae said. “She keeps asking if she should call you.”
“Tell her I'm with you.”
“She's going inside for a coat. I'm staying here.”
“Thank you.”
“You can stop thanking me for standing in a street.”
“All right.”
Maya sat down. Her hands were shaking now that she no longer needed them for the first actions. She laid the private phone on the desk and kept her finger against its edge.
Rae was quiet. Then she said, “Is it always exactly eleven minutes?”
“So far.”
“That isn't very far.”
“No.”
“I can't see anything happening.”
Maya looked at the clock. She didn't tell Rae the time.
“Keep talking to me,” she said.