I bury my face in his chest and sob; the sound tearing out of me raw and helpless. Liam wraps me up tight, both arms around me, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other anchoring me to him. He doesn't shush me. He doesn't tell me it’ll be okay. He just holds me. Solid. Steady. Quiet.
Letting me fall apart in the only way I know how. With everything I have.
I don’t know how long we stand there. Minutes. Hours. A lifetime.
Eventually, the fire chief rounds the corner, his hat still clutched in his hands, his face lined with sympathy.
I pull back slightly from Liam, scrubbing at my face with trembling hands, trying to pull myself together.
“Olive,” the chief says gently. “I’m real sorry, sweetheart. But I need to tell you something.”
My heart lurches.
“What is it?”
“There was a gas leak inside the building,” he says, voice soft. “We think maybe that’s what triggered everything. Maybe she didn’t even know it happened.”
I nod, throat too tight to speak.
“But because of it you can’t stay there. It’s not safe.”
The words hit like another blow, stealing the air right out of my lungs. Lura’s gone. And now so is my home.
For a second, I just sway there, stunned.
Liam's hand tightens on my back.
He leans down, voice low and sure against my ear.
“You're coming home with me,” he says. No hesitation. No question.
The one solid thing I have left.
The chief shifts on his feet, hat twisting between his hands. His voice is gentle but steady when he says, “I can run up and grab some things for you. Is there anything you need?”
I swipe at my cheeks, trying and failing to steady myself.
“A change of clothes,” I croak out. “Something nice, too. We have a work dinner tomorrow.”
My voice breaks halfway through the sentence, splintering the last fragile bit of composure I have left.
I blink hard, forcing myself to look at him. “Where’s Lura? Can I… can I see her?”
The chief’s face softens even more, lined with sympathy so deep it nearly guts me.
“They’ve already come and picked her up,” he says quietly. “She’s in Sheridan now, at the funeral home. I’ll make sure you know the moment you can go see her.” He ducks his head, his voice rough with grief. “This place ain’t gonna be the same without her.”
The finality of it punches the air from my lungs all over again.
Gone. She’s gone.
The word echoes through my head, hollow and merciless.
When the chief walks away, giving us a moment alone, Liam pulls me close again without a word. I melt against him, too tired to fight it and too broken to pretend I don’t need it.
“Honey,” he murmurs against my hair, voice thick. “We can get you new clothes. Anything you need.”
I let out a watery half-laugh, half-sob, the sound ugly and cracked.
