He stared at me like the balloons had turned to ash.
“Megan… nobody reached you?” his voice cracked the silence.
I clutched the cake box tighter, feeling the paper crinkle under my fingers.
“What do you mean?” I asked, heart thudding against my ribs.
He stepped closer, eyes narrowed, the lines around them deepening.
“Cole didn’t come back.”
The words hit the floor like a dropped fire axe.
“What… what happened?” I stammered, the air suddenly stale.
Captain Ortega swallowed, his throat dry.
“A massive blaze ripped through the downtown apartment building this afternoon. The crew lost contact with him after the second alarm.”
He gestured to the empty hallway, where the usual clatter of boots and radios was gone.
“We’ve been trying to reach him… the signal dropped when the roof collapsed.”
My mind raced, images of Cole’s smile flickering like a dying flame.
“Are you sure—?” I whispered, feeling the station’s walls close in.
He nodded, his jaw set.
“We’re still searching. I’m sorry, Megan.”
The words settled like ash on my tongue, and the balloons slipped from my grasp, drifting to the floor.
Bruised Truths in the Hospital
Colt’s hospital room smelled of antiseptic and burnt rubber.
He lay there, bandages splayed across his chest, eyes glassy and distant.
“Megan,” he croaked, his voice a rasp.
I sat on the edge of the bed, the cake box abandoned on the nightstand.
“Tell me what happened,” I begged, fingers trembling.
He turned his head slowly, the pain evident in each shallow breath.
“I went in alone,” he whispered, as if the walls might hear.
“The fire was worse than we thought. The heat… it pushed us back.”
He glanced at the ceiling, recalling the roar.
“I saw a doorway behind the kitchen, a hidden hatch that the others never noticed.”
“I thought maybe… maybe I could get someone out.”
His hand trembled, clutching the thin blanket.
“But there was something in there, something I couldn’t leave.”
My pulse pounded, my throat dry.
“What did you do?” I asked, voice barely a breath.
He closed his eyes, the memory heavy.
“I closed the door.”
Silence stretched, thick as smoke.
Then, with a shudder, he whispered the confession that broke me.
“I left a child behind.”
Hidden Evidence in the Locker
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