Page 123 of Branded Hearts

I mean, it’s Bradley we’re talking about here.

She continues, “In a heroic attempt, an officer and multiple firefighters managed to rescue a three-year-old girl who was trapped inside a room. The mother and eleven-year-old brother are both being treated, and the forty-four-year-old male, who was seen with the young girl, is being rushed to emergency, in critical condition.”

My breathing quickens, and then she announces that, “The twoofficers that were down are conscious and are being treated at the scene.”

Relief washes over me, yet it’s still not confirmed who these officers are. I pull out my phone and send my brother a text.

The bond I share with Bradley knows no limits. Despite our differences, we’re alike in many ways. I find myself wondering how well I truly know him. He’s always been the quiet, moody type, lost in his own thoughts. As I shake my head, my mind wanders to Amelia. Glancing at Liv, I can’t help but think about their situation. It was surprising, yet not entirely unexpected.

They suit eachother.

Isla steps toward me, and as I lock eyes with her, I pull my phone out to text Amelia. Bradley texted her number to me after we got off the phone earlier today to have… just in case. Even though I’d had it saved since she was already in the group chat, it was a thoughtful gesture.

My heart breaks for her. She belongs here, with all of us. Bradley would have wanted that. Yet, she’s on her own, facing these uncertainties solo.

But having her here would raise too many suspicions, I reckon. It’s messed up, considering she’s practically family, being Liv’s best friend and all.

Isla steps up beside me, her eyes scanning the message, their softness evident. Yeah, she’s aware. When she noticed Bradley acting all strange—like, unusually happy and shit—she didn’t waste a second before asking what was up, so I’d told her.

She’s my wife; naturally,I shareeverythingwith her.

Isla understands the need for discretion, nodding in silent agreement before returning to the couch. Now, we simply wait, anxiously anticipating my brother’s safe return home.

It’s not a matter of if, butwhen.

He’ll be back home soon.

41

Gravity - Sara Bareilles

The silence in my apartment is deafening. I sit curled up on the couch, my phone clutched in my hand, staring at the TV screen as if willing it to offer any shred of good news. Hours have dragged by, each minute stretching into what feels like an eternity.

We have three casualties who have perished in the fire, with fifteen confirmed injured.

Two police officers are also down.

My heart sinks as I recite the grim news in my mind, each word hitting me like a blow. I replay the messages I exchanged with Xavier, my heart aching with every word. I can only imagine them all at home, consumed by fear and uncertainty, just like me. I wonder if he's okay, if he's... alive. I picture Xavier, most likely inconsolable over his brother. And Liv.

Oh, Liv. My heart shatters even more at thethought of her. I click on our text message thread and start typing.

This is herbrother. She must be feeling so terrified.

I spent the night with my parents, who kept reassuring me he’d be fine. My mum kept chanting, “He’s a strong, capable man,” over and over, trying to instil hope and faith in all of us. Kat even FaceTimed us for a while, wanting updates, but we hadnoneto give her.

I left not long ago, thinking I might be able to clear my head at home—but also hoping to get some sleep. Just as I was about to head out, my dad stopped me.

“Amelia.”

“Yeah?”

“When he comes home, tell him I’ll plan our hunting trip. Yeah?”

My eyes had welled up with tears, and I nodded before kissing him on the cheek.

Not if, butwhen.

I try to keep myself busy in my lounge, but my mind is racing. The TV is on full volume, and my heart aches at the sight before me—those poor victims, elderly people, and young children. As I watch, the screen shows a drone flying over the area, capturing the full extent of the devastating fires. The image of a fireball eruptingin the distance almost makes me choke on my tea. I quickly set the cup down, struggling to regain my composure. Tears well up in my eyes.

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