“I was sure that it was going!” Karen says angrily. “It just started right up. You saw it!”
Ing squats in front of the stove. “I saw it start, but it obviously didn’t keep going.”
“I don’t understand it,” she says, looking past Ing at Howard.
Ing arranges the little sticks of kindling in a tipi shape around a ball of crumpled newspaper. “There. It’ll start…
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