Jason sank to his knees as smoke swallowed the sky, the color of it an angry crimson, like the world itself was bleeding. The house before him, her house, collapsed in slow motion, boards shrieking and crumbling as if mourning their own destruction.

His chest caved with a ragged sob, the kind that seemed to come from somewhere deeper than his lungs, deeper even than his body. Everything around him blurred—faces, sirens, flames—until all that remained was the ash.

He should have looked away. Should have closed his eyes.

But he didn't. He couldn't.
The paramedics moved solemnly through the smoke, their silhouettes stark against the firelit haze. The stretchers were draped in white sheets—too still, too final. He counted them without meaning to.
One... two... three.
Jason didn't flinch. His heart was hollowed out, like something had been carved from within him with a hot blade.
It should've been him.
Not Selena.
"No," he whispered hoarsely, his voice splintering. "No, it can't be."
He stumbled backward, eyes wide, brain refusing to bridge the gap between what he saw and what he believed. Reality came in slow waves, each one more unbearable than the last. And then he was moving, sprinting toward the stretchers with a desperate, raw urgency. A rescuer with no one left to save.
"Selena," he choked, reaching trembling hands toward the nearest form.
The heat of the fire still lingered in the air, as if the world itself was scorched. He lifted the sheet with shaking fingers. What stared back at him was no longer her face—just blackened skin, unrecognizable. His mind rejected it. It can't be her. It isn't.

I was now standing in the dark hallway, staring at her door, when I heard it.


A small sound at first—a choked gasp.


Then her voice, trembling and weak:"Please… I beg you… Please don't hurt me…"


My hand was on her door in an instant. I pushed it open and rushed inside, eyes scanning the room. The sheets were tangled around her legs, her body twitching and slick with sweat. Her face was pale, her lips parted in terror, like she was trapped in something she couldn't escape.


"Please," she whimpered again, her voice barely audible, "don't… please don't…"


Then her body jerked and she screamed—piercing, raw, terrified.


"Marie!" I reached her in two strides, kneeling beside the bed and grabbing her shoulders gently but firmly. "It's me. It's Jason. You're safe. Wake up come back to me."


Chapter 66 - Midnight