Page 1 of Consumed By Fire

PROLOGUE

4 years ago

Charlotte

I'm tired and exhausted, and I just want to be left alone.

I argued my thesis. I really did it and I'm proud of it. I was Magna Cum Laude in accounting, despite my parents' disapproval. I can't understand what their problem is, as I enrolled in college to make them proud of me. I have always excelled at school and in extracurricular activities. The classic good girl: school, library, and home.

Mom always hated me. I don't know what I did to her but she always blamed me: for changing her body, for not letting her sleep at night, for not being a vegetarian, for being too beautiful, for being slim, for my hair, for breathing. Dad, on the other hand, being a lawyer, would have liked me to have followed in his footsteps. Though in the end he told me that I had to choose the path that made me happy. I’ve never weighed financially on them, not since Grandfather left us, and even before that, I worked in the city library.

After my grandfather died, the world collapsed on me. He had always been my safe haven. He was the only one who encouraged me to follow my dreams, no matter how foolish they were. “If you don't try it, you'll never know where it will take you,” he always said, and he was right.

After the funeral, my grandfather's lawyer handed me a letter. Opening it was a shock. So many secrets were revealed, and that's how I discovered that I had a bank account in my name that would allow me to live on an income for at least two lifetimes. “You have always been a wise girl, and I know for a fact that you’ll use this money the right way. I only ask you one thing: be happy.”

It’s a promise that I made to myself but, above all, to him.

I went to college, bought a car, and had my first and last relationship. I don't know if I'm proud of it, to be honest, but seeing the positive pregnancy test didn't make me anxious. I called Logan, and when he came home, I told him about the test. His reaction was a bitter mouthful to swallow. Choosing between him and our baby was all I needed to hear. I later found out that the bastard was cheating on me.

Telling my parents, well … it was easier than expected. I already knew how they’d react, and the scandal it would mean for them to keep this baby. So the same evening, I packed my bags, got in my car, and left Boston, closing the door to the past.

I had no goal or plan, but in my heart, I knew this was the right thing to do. I didn't want to hear from anyone anymore. I avoided answering Daddy's incessant calls.

I stopped at a motel just outside of Virginia. I felt tired and needed to sleep. The night always brings good advice, they say. Too bad nausea prevented me from sleeping.

The next morning, I decided to go to an ob-gyn. Although I couldn’t see anything in the ultrasound because it was too early, the doctor prescribed vitamins and gave me some advice.

After a week of traveling, visiting picturesque but chaotic cities, I stopped at another motel along the highway to rest. It was one of the most restful nights ever. When I woke up in the morning, I stood up and noticed the redness on my sheets. I got dressed immediately and went to the ER, hoping that it wasn't what I thought. Unfortunately, the doctor's diagnosis left no room for hope. My little one was gone. In the doctor's face I could read the pain he felt for me and I wanted to scream and cry. But I did nothing. I got up, said goodbye, and went to the car. I drove to the motel as if I were in a trance, and once the bedroom door closed behind me, I burst into tears.

“You fall and get up, stronger than before ... what does not kill you, strengthens you,” Grandpa would have said. Only now I don't know what to do anymore. Going back home was out of the question. I wanted to live my life, make my mistakes, learn, and get up.

After two days and tons of tears later, I braced myself and left the motel. As I drove and took the wrong path, I stopped in front of the sign to a city. I got out of the car and read the inscription: Welcome to Armstrong. I shook my head and looked up at the sky as a tear fell down my cheek.

"I would think this is your plan, you know?" I say to the sky, smiling. Friends called Grandpa “Armstrong.” I never understood why. He promised me that one day he would explain it to me. Unfortunately, that day never came.

I wiped my tears and went back into my Quixie (Chevrolet Equinox), then entered the city.

It seemed like a quiet place, with only 6,000 inhabitants. The houses were all different but with warm colors and manicured gardens. The small town looked like something out of a magazine.

I parked in front of Pete’s Bakery and got out of the car, breathing in the delicious aroma. I felt relaxed, calm, ready to move on. I was healing from the great emptiness of the loss of that little creature whom I would never have the chance to meet. I felt ... at home.

After a week in the city, I bought a huge building at an honest price, given all the work I’d have to do to make it the fantastic bed and breakfast that I imagined. I had to chase my dreams and I'd rolled up my sleeves.

Dylan

I’m really tired of this feeling of oppression. Everywhere I turn, every damn place in this city reminds me of her and how she has been deceiving me all these years. We met in high school and never broke up. I enlisted and she had always been by my side. I felt like the luckiest man on earth, until a year ago when I decided to surprise her by returning home. Except that I got the surprise instead, finding her in bed with someone else in my house.

I decided at that moment that no other woman would get close to my heart. Never!

On my way home, I applied to join the Chicago firefighters. It was the busiest year ever, between being part of the Marine aircraft rescue and serving as a firefighter specialist. I learned a lot. I loved my job, as feeling useful makes me feel alive. But I needed a change. Chicago reminded me of her and how she had destroyed a twelve-year relationship. I was still bitter. I had plans, and that was the problem. I had them with her while she had them with someone else. It was time to move on and be done with the past.

I remember Captain Knight telling me about his hometown; a place to live without worries, a quiet place where nothing ever happened. And that was how, after several trips and some time spent there, I decided to move to Armstrong.

A new city, a new life. From now on, I have to live my life.

1

CHARLOTTE

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