13. Mike

Thirteen

Mike

I’m grabbing coffee. Ten minutes of peace, warmth in my hand, silence in my head.

Clara’s behind the counter chatting with a couple of firefighters on their morning coffee run. It’s calm. Normal. The kind of normal I was chasing when I came back to this town.

Then the radio goes off.

Loud. Sharp. Sirens screaming outside.

The guys bolt out the door before the words fully register—

But I catch them.

“It’s the library.”

Everything in me stills.

No.

No, no, no.

My coffee hits the floor.

I’m already out the door, running to my truck.

I don’t remember the drive.

Just my hands locked around the wheel.

My boot slamming the gas.

My brain stuck on one word.

Shanay.

—-

Smoke fills the street by the time I get there.

Flames blazing from the back section, part of the roof has already caved in.

The firefighters’ water hoses are spraying.

Voices yelling everywhere.

I don’t hear any of it.

I spot one of Shanay’s colleagues, flag him down, and shout: “She inside?”

He nods. That’s all I need.

I’m moving before anyone can hold me back.

“Mike—” someone grabs my arm.

I shake them off.

“She’s in there.”

“You can’t go in!”

“The fuck I can’t.”

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