CHAPTER SEVENTEEN — THE REPLACEMENT PROBLEM
The county health department hosted an emergency planning meeting on Tuesday.
The room was small, crowded, and overheated.
A hospital representative, two child passenger safety technicians, several social workers, and a county transportation official sat around a folding table.
Elena attended as a parent and complainant rather than as an expert.
Gabby came beside her, carrying a notebook full of questions.
The first challenge was not identifying the affected households.
SafeStart’s registry provided names and contacts for many recipients, although some entries were incomplete.
The harder challenge was finding verified replacement restraints quickly enough.
The county could offer a limited number of loaner seats, and local retailers had agreed to reserve discounted stock.
Those measures still left dozens of families without an immediate solution.
“We cannot tell parents to stop transporting children indefinitely,
” a social worker said.
“We also cannot assure them that an unverified product is safe,” the technician replied.
Gabby raised her hand.
“Can we organize appointments so families don’t waste a whole day traveling to three locations?”
The room turned toward her.
“Yes,” the hospital representative said.
“If we can get accurate inventory counts.”
“I can help with registration,” Gabby offered.
Elena looked at her sister in surprise.
Gabby shrugged.
“I know most of the volunteers.”
The transportation official arranged for a temporary shuttle between the warehouse, the hospital fitting site, and a retailer participating in the replacement effort.
No one pretended the shuttle solved the affordability problem.
A representative from the state’s consumer assistance office began contacting the distributor and relevant funding sources about payment responsibility.
Elena asked whether families would have to surrender questionable seats before receiving help.
“We should document the item and follow the official collection instructions,” the technician said.
“But we need to avoid creating an extra barrier for parents trying to comply.”
Elena wrote the answer down.
It was the kind of practical detail that nobody mentioned during the loudest arguments online.
By the end of the meeting, the county had assigned appointments to the highest-priority households and made a public information number available.
Outside, Gabby leaned against the building and closed her eyes.
“I hated you when you told me not to take that seat,” she admitted.
“I know.”
“I thought you were looking down on everybody who needed help.”
“I should have explained myself better.”
“Maybe,” Gabby said.
“But I should have listened long enough to hear you.”
They walked toward Elena’s car without trying to settle every old disagreement at once.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN — THE NIGHT OF THE SECOND FIRE
The second fire started behind the SafeStart warehouse shortly after closing.
This one was contained inside a steel dumpster, and nobody was injured.
A passing delivery driver noticed the smoke and called emergency services.
When investigators arrived, the warehouse manager said the dumpster had been empty at noon.
By evening it contained damaged cardboard cartons and plastic label sheets.
The flames had destroyed some material, but not all of it.
Elena learned about the fire from Renée, who had been helping parents sort replacement requests.
“Please don’t go down there,” Renée said.
“The authorities already have the scene.”
Elena stayed home, but she called Priya to ask whether the product records were safe.
Priya could not discuss specific evidence.
She did say that the investigative team had already obtained shipment information from sources beyond the warehouse.
“A local fire will not erase the import records,” she explained.
Elena remembered Leila’s statement beside the first mailbox.
The pattern was becoming hard to ignore.
Someone kept trying to destroy the nearest piece of evidence while forgetting about the people and systems beyond it.
At the warehouse, Tessa arrived to find Marlene waiting in her parked minivan.
“You promised you weren’t coming back,” Tessa said.
Marlene stared at the flashing emergency lights.
“I wanted to see what they were doing.”
“Do you know how this started?”
“How would I know?”
Tessa opened the driver’s door and smelled smoke on Marlene’s jacket.
She closed it again without speaking.
Marlene reached through the window.
“Tessa, don’t look at me like that.”
“You told me you didn’t go near Elena’s mailbox.”
“I was trying to keep you out of trouble.”
“And now you’re standing outside another fire.”
Marlene began to cry.
“They are going to take the warehouse and put your name in every newspaper.”
“They already have my name,” Tessa replied.
“The difference is that I am answering questions.”
She walked toward the officers and told them what she had observed.
Marlene remained in the van, unable to follow her daughter.
