Then flashing emergency lights.
A fire truck blocked half the road. Neighbors stood outside filming with their phones.
In the middle of my driveway, a bright sports car was burning.
Jason stood nearby with his arms crossed, watching me with a victorious smile.
I jumped out of my car, heart racing.
Then I noticed something.
The license plate.
It wasn’t mine.
It was Jason’s.
Before I could stop myself, laughter exploded out of me.
Not quiet laughter.
Uncontrollable, hysterical laughter.
A firefighter looked at me, confused.
“Ma’am… whose car is this?”
I wiped tears from my eyes and pointed directly at my husband.
“That’s his car,” I said. “Registered to Jason Parker.”
Jason’s confident expression collapsed.
A police officer stepped forward. “Ma’am, you’re saying you didn’t set the fire?”
“He called me and admitted he did,” I replied.
Jason immediately shouted, “She’s lying! It was her car!”
I calmly pulled the paperwork from my purse.
“The Lamborghini my parents gave me is still at the dealership.”
An officer turned to Jason. “Sir, come with us.”
“It was just a prank!” he blurted.
The fire investigator shook his head.
“Pranks don’t involve gasoline.”
Then someone suggested checking the security cameras.