img The Fire That Wasn't An Accident  /  Chapter 1 | 14.29%
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Chapter 1

Word Count: 1405    |    Released on: 08/07/2025

ructure I had designed myself. At eight months pregnant, every breath was a little harde

tolen my parents and my little sister from me, leaving me with scars

n was re

ect in the sexual assault of a young woman. I knew Ethan. I knew the good in him. I stood before the

appened ri

y painful surgery, and somewhere in that shared darkness, our friendship deepened into love. We marrie

exclusive interview. He said it was time to put the pas

he said, kissing my forehea

was Leah Chen, a star news anchor with a warm, captivating smile. Sh

sion on mute, watching the live feed. Ethan looked con

lt this incredible life from the ashes of a terrible past. But there are sti

tly into the camera, his eyes finding

strange emotion, "that I was wrong. I made a terri

in my lu

. She was loyal. Her loyalty, however, was misplaced

telling the whole world I had lied. That I

ictimhood. And in that moment, a cold dread washed over me. I knew who she was. She wa

kled my knees. I cried out, clutching my stomach as another wave hit, harder than the first

amed, but my vo

elentless tide,

e wail of a siren. I remember Ethan' s face, a blur of what l

rile white of

ly had been replaced by a cavernous, aching emptiness.

whispered, m

a. There were complications. You were bleeding

g. The emptiness inside me was no longer a feeling, it was a physical fact. He wa

y room was slightly ajar, and I could hear voices in th

," Ethan said, his vo

voice was sharp, demanding.

sense. My mind, sluggish with drugs

er to a private facility as soon as Ava went

atisfaction in her tone. "It's

that," Et

hing more. Now you have your daughter, conceived

n the silent, empty space inside me. The baby I had carri

ring stopped. A few moments later, Ethan cam

You're

, my voice thin. "Leah Chen.

t on the edge of my bed and to

the medication... you're not thinki

desperate strength. "She said 'our daughter'

d. "You lost our son. It's a terrible tragedy. Your mind is playing tricks on

ing a truth so monstrous I

ll of smoke, the heat, the screams. But I also remembered something else. Scrawled

the police. I had

harp and clear. "You stood in the wreckage of my h

g," he said, his voice

w, sickening suspicion

cross-references arson cases and handwriting samples. I've p

ive, my secret weapon in the hunt for justice. My hope. For years, I had f

baby was a lie. His love was a lie. The ho

the last bit of strength

an empty program. You gave me a useless piece

ly broke. A flash of irr

ou're becoming paranoid. You're not well. I thi

door, casting a long shadow over me in the sterile hospi

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