the fire between us

chapter 18

⚠️Content Warning: The upcoming chapters will delve into sensitive and potentially distressing themes, including death, funerals, and feelings of loneliness. These topics will be explored in depth and may evoke strong emotions. If you find these subjects challenging or triggering, please take care of yourself and proceed with caution. It's important to prioritize your well-being and seek support if needed. Thank you for your understanding.

This content warning will precede each chapter that includes these themes, so you can make informed decisions about your reading experience. The warning will be removed once these themes are no longer central to the narrative.

Thank you for your understanding and for taking care of yourself.⚠️

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As I call out to my grandma, the house feels eerily silent. The usual warmth that radiates from her home—the cozy scents, the soft sounds of her humming in the kitchen—none of it is there. A sudden, inexplicable dread grips me, freezing me in place for just a heartbeat.

But then I see her. My grandma, the woman who has always been my rock, lies motionless on the living room floor. My heart seizes in my chest, a cold terror coursing through my veins.

"Grandma!" I scream, the sound ripping from my throat as I stumble forward, dropping to my knees beside her. The world narrows to just this moment, just this horror. Her frail body looks so small, so fragile, sprawled out on the floor like this. My hands tremble as I reach out to touch her, terrified of what I might find—or not find.

Her skin is cool, alarmingly cool, and I feel a scream of panic clawing at my throat. "Marcus, call an ambulance!" I shout, my voice cracking with desperation. It doesn't even sound like me. Marcus, pale as a ghost, fumbles with his phone, his hands shaking almost as much as mine. The seconds tick by like hours, each one dragging me deeper into a nightmare I can't wake from.

Martinus is beside me in an instant, his face set with grim determination. "Let me check," he says, his voice steadier than mine as he leans over my grandma. I can see the tension in his jaw, the fear he's trying so hard to mask. He presses his fingers to her neck, searching for a pulse, his own breath held as tightly as mine.

"She's breathing," Martinus finally says, but his words bring little comfort. "Her pulse is weak, but it's there." His voice, though calm, carries an undercurrent of urgency that terrifies me even more.

I clutch my grandma's hand, feeling the tears stream down my face as I whisper to her. "Please, Grandma, hold on. Don't leave me. Please..." My voice cracks with every word, and I feel utterly helpless, like a child again, begging for something I can't control.

Nora, usually so composed, stands frozen, her face a mask of shock and fear. It's as if the world around us is collapsing, and all I can do is kneel there, holding my grandma's hand, praying for a miracle.

The sound of the approaching siren cuts through the oppressive silence, but it feels like it's coming from a different world, one that isn't drenched in terror and heartbreak. The front door flies open, and the paramedics rush in, their faces set with professional determination. They assess her quickly, their movements efficient, their voices low and serious.

"We need to move her now," one of the paramedics says, and I feel my stomach drop. This is bad. I can see it in their eyes, hear it in their clipped tones. They lift her onto a stretcher, and she looks so fragile, so breakable.

"Please be okay," I whisper, not sure if I'm saying it to her or to myself. As they carry her out, I stumble to my feet, my legs weak and shaky. Martinus catches me before I fall, his arms around me, holding me up as everything inside me crumbles.