Claire stood frozen at the threshold of fire and memory.
Flames licked the floor ahead like living serpents, but not a single spark touched her skin.Her hands clenched. Jaw tight.
Behind her, the "successful" version of herself waited calmly—no fear, no pain, just a quiet, chilling satisfaction.
Before her, heat danced with voices.Familiar ones.Laughter.Cries.
And then—A whisper.
Soft.Male.Choked with regret.
"Claire… don't forget me."
Her eyes widened. She took a step forward, chest trembling.
That voice hadn't spoken in years.
Claire's heart cracked.
That name. That voice. That pain.
It belonged to someone she had buried.Not because he was dead—but because she had to.
Because remembering him meant tearing herself open again.
He wasn't Danny.He was before Danny.
The first man who'd made her believe in forever.The one fate stole long ago.The one she had to forget to survive.
But the fire… remembered.And now it wanted her to choose between the life she built—and the one she locked away.
Was this fate giving her a second chance?Or another cruel joke dressed in hope?
The flames roared gently, like a choir made of heartbreaks, each flicker a memory she tried not to revisit.
And in the heart of it all, a silhouette formed—Faint, glowing with soft gold and ember-red.
A man stood there, hand outstretched.
Eyes like autumn. Smile like closure.
The flames didn't burn.They welcomed.Like a forgotten love letter finally opened.
The child stood beside her again, gaze solemn.
"If you follow him, you'll lose everything you've built.But if you stay…you'll never know what would've healed you."
Claire turned her head toward the fire.
The name echoed again—clearer this time.
"Elias."
The flames surged.
One step.One choice.No way back.
She lifted her foot—
And stepped in.