The Moonlight Lit Her Own Fire

After Luna died, Damon hated me for four years.

So, when I was reborn back to the night of the fire, I deliberately stepped deeper into the choking smoke, calling out to my husband, the Special Operations Fire Captain:

Dont look for me. Save Luna first.

In my previous life, Luna, my best friend, and I were trapped on different floors of the towering inferno. As the blaze raged, Damon only had time to save one person. He rushed to me. I was carried out of the burning building, unharmed, but Luna was incinerated alive on the twenty-third floor.

Damon, once an elite firefighter, developed pyrophobia, a crippling fear of fire, and could never again step into a burning building.

Then, on New Years Eve, he smiled as he tied a crimson string bracelet around my wrist. I thought he had finally moved past it, but the string had been soaked in an accelerant. As the fireworks ignited my wrist, I asked him why. Damon only stared at the flames licking my skin, his eyes reflecting a cold, dead light.

Luna burned to death. Why do you get to live, completely untouched?

I opened my eyes again, back to the moment the fire alarm blared.

Damon! Trapped civilians on the seventeenth and twenty-third floors! The fire is spreading upwards! The dispatchers voice crackled, hoarse with urgency through the walkie-talkie.

Thick smoke billowed, turning the entire high-rise into a dying beast, groaning with the metallic shriek of twisting steel. Damon turned back to look at me, his eyes bloodshot. I stood at the end of a corridor on the seventeenth floor, behind me a fire door already scorched through.

In the last life, he hadnt said a word. Hed just charged forward, slung me over his shoulder, and carried me out. Luna, on the twenty-third floor, had screamed for forty-seven minutes, unanswered. The autopsy report later read: Ninety percent full-body burns, found in a curled, self-protective posture. Damon hadnt spoken for three days after reading that report. From then on, he never looked me in the eye again.

This time, I wouldn't let him make that choice.

Damon, go to the twenty-third floor first. Save Luna.

He froze.

Im fine. This floor still has a buffer zone. I can hold on.

You

Thats an order. I offered him a small, wry smile. Captains wifes orders C still good?

Damons Adams apple bobbed. He wanted to say something, but another urgent call came over the radio.

Twenty-third floor civilian in distress, suspected heavy smoke inhalation!

Damon clenched his jaw, then finally turned and sprinted towards the emergency stairwell. The moment his silhouette vanished into the smoke, I took two steps back. The floorboards beneath my feet were already soft and scalding. Leaning against the wall, I doused my wet towel with more water, clamped it over my mouth and nose, and crouched down.

Last time, Id emerged without a scratch. This time, I likely wouldnt be so lucky. It didnt matter. The crimson string burning through my wrist in the last life had hurt far more than this.

The smoke grew thicker, my consciousness blurring. The last voice I heard wasn't Damons. It was an unfamiliar, raspy male voice.

Seventeenth floor, trapped civilian found! Female, disoriented, extensive burns to face and arms!

Someone lifted me from the floor. The rough fabric of a protective suit brushed against my face. Dazedly, I opened my eyes and saw a face mostly obscured by a mask. Not Damon. The man looked down at me, his voice steady. Dont move. Ill get you out.

I lost consciousness amidst violent jolts.

When I woke again, I was on an emergency stretcher. An oxygen mask covered my mouth and nose, and a tearing pain flared in my right arm. I turned my head and saw another stretcher nearby. Luna lay on it, only faint smudges of smoke on her face. She was alive. Damon stood by her stretcher, one hand still gripping her wrist, as if checking her pulse. I couldn't clearly see his expression, but his back was to me.

Just like in the last life. No, in the last life, his back had been to Lunas corpse.

Suddenly, the burns on my arm didnt hurt so much anymore.

The firefighter whod rescued me removed his mask and knelt by my stretcher, filling out an injury report. His face was mostly smudged with ash, revealing only his eyes.

Name? he asked.

Audrey.

He paused his pen, glanced towards Damon, then back at me. Without a word, he resumed writing. His name tag read Lucas.

The lights in the ICU were blindingly white. I spent eleven days in the burn unit, undergoing two skin graft surgeries on my right arm and back. Damon visited three times. The first time was to sign off on the surgery; his hand trembled as he wrote his name. The second time, he dropped off a bag of clean clothes, leaving them on the nightstand before walking out. The third was the day my bandages were removed. He stood at the doorway of my room, his gaze lingering on the winding scars on my arm. His lips moved, but he ultimately only managed to say, Im stepping out to take a call.

He never came back.

Luna, on the other hand, was a frequent visitor. She was discharged on the third day and came to see me daily thereafter, carrying flowers and fruit, her eyes red-rimmed.

Audrey, Im so sorry, its all because of me

Youre so hurt, I feel incredibly guilty

Did Damon did he only save me because you told him to?

As she spoke, her tears fell in perfectly spaced drops. I used to think Lunas crying was beautiful. Now, looking at it, each tear seemed precisely measured.

Its okay. Were sisters. Your safety is what matters, I said.

She lunged to hug me, directly pressing against the fresh skin graft on my back. I gasped in pain. She immediately pulled back, her face a picture of alarm.

Oh my goodness, I forgot about your back!

But the speed with which she withdrew her hand was half a second faster than her apology. This was a detail I wouldnt have noticed in my last life. This time, I saw it clearly.

That afternoon, Damon came to pick up Luna. He said he was passing by, but the hospital was in the east of the city, our home in the west, and the fire station in the north. Three different directions, not a single one on the way. As Luna left, she glanced back at me, then naturally slipped her hand onto Damons forearm.

Captain Reid, Ive been having terrible nightmares lately, dreaming of the fire

Damon didn't shake her off. He turned his head slightly to look at her, saying, Itll get better. Try to rest.

He had never spoken to me in that tone. I looked down at my bandaged arm, and a small smile touched my lips.

Just then, Lucas came in for a follow-up. He pushed the door open and paused when he saw me smiling alone at the ceiling.

Any discomfort from the wound?

No.

He flipped through my medical chart at the foot of the bed, frowning slightly. Theres a risk of infection in the grafted area. Dressing changes cannot be missed these next few days.

I know.

Your husband?

Busy.

Lucas didnt ask further, putting down the chart and turning to leave. He stopped at the doorway.

Family signature is required. If hes busy, you can find me for the next dressing change.

Youre a firefighter, not a doctor.

But Im the one who carried you out of the seventeenth floor. He didnt turn back. See things through.

The door closed. Silence returned to the room. I slowly tightened my grip on the bedsheet. That night, after the nurses rounds, I opened my phone and found a post on social media. Luna had just posted it. The accompanying picture was a bouquet of white roses, geotagged to this hospital. The caption read: After surviving the ordeal, grateful for everyone who fought to pull me through.

The first comment below was a like from Damon. The second was from an unfamiliar account, leaving a message: Luna, youre so brave. Luna replied with a hugging emoji.

I put my phone face down on the bed and closed my eyes. Good. The drama of this life was unfolding even faster than the last.

On the day of my discharge, Damon came to pick me up. The car was quiet; he didnt say a word the entire drive. It wasnt until the car pulled into the neighborhood parking garage that he spoke, his voice muffled.

Why did you tell me to save her first?

My hand, clutching my discharge bag, paused. Because she was on the twenty-third floor, six levels higher than me, and in greater danger.

But you almost died in there.

I looked at his profile, unable to tell if his words held concern or accusation.

But she lived, didnt she? I pushed open the car door. And you didnt become a broken firefighter.

He whipped his head around to look at me, his gaze complex. I didnt explain, taking my things and heading upstairs on my own.

In the days that followed, I used my recovery as an excuse to cut back on all social engagements. But Luna wouldnt leave me in peace. She came to the house two or three times a week, bringing soup and dishes, portraying herself as the most dedicated best friend in the world. Each visit, she would subtly bring up Damon.

Audrey, Damons under so much pressure lately. You should pay more attention to him.

I heard he was criticized by the higher-ups because of the fire. Theres an investigation into the collapse of the fire escape.

When he saved me that day, he carried me down four flights of stairs he truly fought so hard.

Every one of her sentences emphasized the same thing: Damon had fought for her life. I listened with a smile, pouring her a cup of tea.

That night, I found Damons work phone. He never took this phone on missions, and the password was still our wedding anniversary. Luna was pinned at the top of his messages. The most recent chat history began the day after the fire.

Luna: Captain Reid, I had nightmares again tonight. I dreamt I was trapped in the fire, unable to escape.

Damon: Dont be scared. That fire is out.

Luna: But every time I close my eyes, I see the flames. Im so afraid.

Damon: Would you like me to recommend a therapist?

Luna: No, just talking to you makes me feel better. Youre the one who saved me. Hearing your voice makes me feel safe.

I scrolled down, message by message. The conversations grew longer, more frequent. They talked about nightmares, childhood, work, and life. The patience and tenderness Damon displayed in these messages were something I had never witnessed from him.

I scrolled to the latest message. It was a voice note from Luna. I tapped it. Her voice was soft, gentle, with a hint of deliberate tremor.

Captain Reid, Audrey is truly so brave. She told you to save me first But sometimes I wonder, if you had gone to the seventeenth floor first that day, maybe she wouldnt have been hurt?

Damon replied with four words: Dont overthink it.

But he didnt say, I should have saved her first.

I turned off my phone and put it back where I found it.

The next day, I invited Luna for coffee. I chose a window seat, where the sunlight perfectly illuminated her face. She wore light makeup, her complexion healthy, not at all like someone tormented by nightmares. Halfway through our conversation, she took a call and walked to the entrance. Through the glass, I couldnt hear what she was saying, but when she returned after hanging up, her expression seemed off. I pretended not to notice, stirring my coffee. She sat down, silent for a few seconds. Then, she looked up and spoke in a tone I had never heard from her before.

Audrey, you dont have to work so hard.

What do you mean?

The situation between you and Damon you dont have to force it.

She took my hand, her fingertips cool. You deserve better.

The words sounded like concern. But the fleeting something in her eyes wasn't. I lightly patted her palm.

Thank you, Luna.

When I got home, I made a call. Is this the Fire Department Headquarters? Id like to obtain the accident investigation report for last months commercial building fire.

Lucas helped me get the report. He didnt ask why I wanted to see it, simply handed me a manila envelope.

Are you sure you want to look?

Yes.

Some things, once seen, you cant unsee.

I met his gaze. His expression was calm, but as he spoke, his eyes lingered on my face for a second, as if to confirm I was ready.

I tore open the envelope and flipped to the fire cause analysis page.

Origin: Twenty-third floor, unit 2307, east storage room.

Cause: Initially determined to be a short circuit from aging electrical wiring.

I continued reading. In the on-site investigation remarks, there was a handwritten line:

Trace amounts of unusual chemical residue detected in unit 2307 storage room; components await further analysis.

My finger stopped on that line. Unit 2307. That was next to the conference room where Luna had her meeting that night. I kept flipping and found the attached chemical analysis report.

Residue components: High-concentration isopropyl alcohol mixed with paraffin-based accelerant.

This was not something aging electrical wiring would produce. This was human-made.

A sudden image flashed in my mind. New Years Eve, last life. When Damon tied the crimson string on me, there was a faint, sweet smell in the air. Id thought it was the scent of fireworks. Now, I realized it was the distinctive smell of paraffin-based accelerant when heated.

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to calm down. A thought formed, absurd and terrifying, yet utterly clear. That crimson string in the last life wasn't Damon's own preparation. A week before New Years, Id seen an unmarked small package in the courier locker outside our home. When Damon opened it, Id glimpsed it C a red braided string bracelet with an attached card. I hadnt paid attention to the handwriting on the card then. But now, recalling it, it was Luna's handwriting. Rounded, with a little flourish on the tails of the letters. I recognized it. She used that same script every time she wrote me a birthday card in college.

The crimson string was sent by Luna. The accelerant was soaked by Luna. And that fire, the one that gave Damon pyrophobia, the one that made him hate me for four years

It was also started by Luna.

I snapped my eyes open. The chemical analysis report before me contained cold, precise data. The same formula as the crimson string that had burned through my wrist in the last life.

The sunlight outside was blinding. I slowly closed the report, my fingertips tracing the paper. No trembling.

In the last life, Damon asked me, Why do you get to live, completely untouched?

Wrong. From beginning to end, the one who wanted me dead wasnt him. He was merely a sharpened blade. And the one who handed him the blade was Luna, the woman Id called my best friend for twelve years.

I put the report back into the envelope and took out my phone. Scrolling through my contacts to Luna's name, the profile picture was an old photo of us from college. She had her arm around my shoulder, smiling brightly. I stared at that smiling face for a long time. Then I exited the contacts and opened a new memo. The title read:

Evidence Chain.

I didn't tip my hand. For the next two weeks, I acted more subdued, more silent than before. In front of Damon, I was a wife self-conscious about her scars. In front of Luna, I was a poor soul gradually losing faith in her marriage.

They both bought it. Because that's exactly what they expected to see.

Wednesday afternoon, I placed a divorce agreement on the dining table. When Damon came home and saw it, his car keys dropped to the floor.

What does this mean?

It means exactly what it says. I leaned against the kitchen doorway, my voice flat. Just sign it.

He picked up the keys and walked over. Audrey, can you please not be like this?

Im not.

Then tell me whats wrong?

I looked at him, and a sudden urge to laugh welled up. Id asked him the same question in my last life. Hed answered me with a crimson string soaked in accelerant.

Damon, have you ever considered something? I said. After that fire, you saved Luna, but I was disfigured. Did you secretly feel a sense of relief?

What are you talking about?!

Im not talking nonsense. I unbuttoned my cuff, revealing the still-healing scar on my arm. Every time you see this, you look away.

His gaze indeed shifted. Even if it was subconscious, he didn't realize it himself.

I dont want to make things difficult for you anymore. I pulled my sleeve back down. I havent asked for anything in the agreement that isnt mine. Just sign it.

I turned and started towards the bedroom. He suddenly grabbed my wrist from behind. My right wrist. The place where the crimson string had burned in my last life. My entire body stiffened as if electrocuted. That memory of pain was too deep, so deep that even across a lifetime, it made me instinctively tremble.

Damon felt my trembling and let go. Audrey

Dont touch there. My voice was hoarser than I expected. You cant touch there.

He didnt understand why I reacted so strongly to my wristthere were no burns there. But he didnt know what happened in the last life. He wouldnt know in this one.

I closed the bedroom door, leaned against it, and slid to the floor. It took a long time to steady my breathing. My phone lit up.

Luna's message.

Audrey, how have you been lately? Captain Reid said youre not doing well, Im so worried.

I stared at the screen. Damon had told her about our impending divorce. How interesting. Having an argument with his wife, his first confidante was another woman. It was just like that in the last life. Step by step, she had transformed herself into an indispensable part of his life. And I, from wife, became enemy.

I replied: Im fine, just the wound hurts a bit, being dramatic.

Luna instantly replied: Youre not dramatic at all! You suffered such a terrible injury, its normal to have emotions. How about I come over and keep you company soon?

I typed: Sounds good, I actually have some things I want to talk to you about.

After sending that message, I opened my memo. Seven items were already listed under Evidence Chain. But it wasnt enough. I needed concrete proof. Ironclad evidence that would leave her no room to maneuver.

I started digging into Lunas past. It was easier than I expected. Because she never imagined anyone would investigate.