My gut tells me something I don’t want to hear.
The flames are bigger than my house, and my parents and two brothers are nowhere to be seen.
Fear. Terror. Loss. It hollows out my heart and leaves the organ bleeding and empty.
Sirens wail from some distance away as I try to clamber back onto my feet. I have to go in there and save them.
“I need to go back in there!” I scream at the top of my lungs as the fire crew drag me away. “Please!”
Nobody’s listening.
I’m lifted onto a stretcher and wheeled into the back of a flashing ambulance. They hook me up to a machine—another way to prevent me from going back in and saving them.
I chose my life over theirs.
I could’ve saved them.
But I chose to save myself.
And that makes me the most selfish person alive.
“The talk was amazing.” Ellie beams up at me at the end of school.
I ruffle her hair and smile. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
“I wish you could come visit more.”
“That would be nice. But there are more important things that you and your classmates need to learn.”
“Like what?”
“Likemath,” I tease her. “Come on. I’ll drop you and Sonny off on my way back to the station. I want that multiplication homework completed by the time I get back tonight.”
“A ride in the truck!” exclaims Sonny. “Did you hear that, Mom?”
Mom.
Piper materializes, only just managing to meet my eyes.
Of course. She’s on pickup duty. I’m supposed to be at work.
“Not today, buddy.” I ruffle Sonny’s hair, reassuring him that there will be a next time. “Your mom will drive you both back. I’ll see you this evening when I get back from work.”
“Will I ever get to hold the hose?”
Since living at my place, Sonny’s hyperfixation has changed from planes to fire hoses. He now runs around the lawn making water sounds.
Piper and I both wish he’d go back to the planes.
“We’ll see about that, bud. It depends on how well you get on with your homework.” I ruffle his hair and escort the kids over to Piper.
The moment our eyes catch, I threaten to lose myself again.
“I’ll see you tonight,” I tell her.
Sounds like a fucking booty call.
“See you tonight,” she says in a small voice, disappearing before I’m done getting my fill of those eyes.
