Chapter 1

The St. Florian' s medallion felt cool against my palm.

It was always cool, a small silver comfort.

My brother, David, gave it to me right before his last fire.

He never came back from that one.

Today marked three years since the city blaze took him.

Mark should have been here.

He promised.

Mark, David' s best friend, my fiancé.

Captain Mark Anderson now, Army National Guard.

He was a firefighter too, once, beside David.

Our engagement, everyone said, was what David would have wanted.

Maybe it was.

But Mark was changing.

Or maybe, I was just seeing him clearly.

The radio station was quiet, my shift almost over.

My phone buzzed. Not Mark.

A text from him: "Running late. Guard stuff. Big drill. Can't get away."

Another lie.

I knew about the "Guard stuff."

Her name was Jessica.

She was "Guard stuff" too.

I' d seen them, laughing, too close, at that Guard picnic he insisted I was too busy to attend.

He'd been "busy" a lot lately.

My show prep notes blurred.

I was already planning my escape, a quiet exit from this life that felt increasingly like a cage.

The station door opened.

It wasn' t Mark.

It was Jessica.

She smiled, a bright, false thing.

"Sarah, right? Mark sent me. He' s swamped."

She walked right up to my console.

"He said you' d have his spare car keys. He needs me to pick up some dry cleaning for his dress uniform. Big dinner tonight with the Colonel."

My brother' s anniversary.

A big dinner with the Colonel.

And Mark needed her to get his keys, for his dry cleaning.

I kept my face blank.

"His keys?"

"Yeah, he said you always carry a spare set."

He used to. Before Jessica.

I didn' t. Not anymore.

"I don't have them," I said.

Her smile tightened. "Oh. He was sure you did. He even said, 'Sarah's always got my back, especially with things like my St. Florian's medal. She keeps it safe.'"

She glanced at my desk, where my hand instinctively covered David' s medallion.

My medallion.

"He has his own," I said, my voice flat.

"Right," she said, eyes flicking to my hand again. "Well, this is awkward. He' ll be disappointed. He really needs that uniform."

She paused, then, "He mentioned you were a bit... sensitive today. Anniversary, right? So sorry for your loss."

The way she said it, "sensitive," like it was a flaw.

The final straw wasn't a shout. It was her casual, dismissive tone.

It was Mark sending her, her, on this day.

Using my brother' s memory, twisting it.

My secret plan solidified. It wasn't just a thought anymore. It was a certainty.

I would leave. And they would never see it coming.

I forced a small, tight smile.

"No problem. I hope he finds his keys."

Jessica' s eyes narrowed for a second, then her bright, false smile returned.

"Me too. See you around, Sarah."

She left.

I picked up David' s medallion.

He' d be so angry.

Not at me.

The decision was made. My life was about to change. Drastically.