Morning arrived slowly.

  The fire had burned itself tired, leaving behind a city of gray ash and broken stone. Rescue workers moved through the ruins like shadows, pulling survivors from the rubble.

  For a brief moment, watching families embrace, I thought perhaps the cost had been worth it.

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  Then the whispers began.

  Secrets always find a way to rise from ashes.

  Someone spoke my name.

  Someone pointed.

  She turned toward me, confusion slowly freezing into horror.

  “You?” she whispered. “You burned this city?”

  I couldn’t speak.

  “You destroyed everything… for a favor?”

  Tears filled her eyes, but anger burned brighter.

  “You call this love?” she said. “If love needs a funeral pyre to exist… then it isn’t love. It’s a disease.”