“No.”
“Randi—”
“I said no.”
Trinity studied her for a moment. “Then call a friend. Someone you trust. Someone who can come by, help you adjust.”
Randi didn’t respond.
“Even just for a few days,” Trinity added. “You don’t have to do this completely alone.”
Silence stretched between them.
Then—
“I don’t have anyone.”
The words came out flat.
Simple.
Final.
Trinity’s expression softened, but she didn’t pity her. That wasn’t her way.
“Everyone has someone,” she said quietly.
Randi shook her head, a faint, humorless smile touching her lips.
“Not me.”
She had learned that early.
Learned it the hard way.
AND THEN A FLASBACK HAPPENED.
Sometimes it appeared like broken pieces. Sometimes like a movie reel replaying the beginning when the lightning struck. The worst of all was after the fireman found her … the most painful one of all.
Flames roared where walls used to stand.
The night air is thick with smoke and heat, sirens are cuttingthrough the chaos as figures move in and out of the burning structure.
Randi screams as her small body is cradled tightly in a firefighter’s arms as he carries her away from the house, his voice trying to reach her over the noise.
“You’re okay! I’ve got you. You’re safe now, honey.”
“I want my mom!” she cries, her voice raw, breaking. “Where’s my mom? Where’s my dad?”
Her eyes search frantically, darting through the blur of flashing lights and moving shadows, trying to find them.
Trying to understand.
Trying to wake up from something that didn’t feel real.
“Please!” she sobs. “I want them!”
The firefighter didn’t answer.
