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I reach for the phone, Blaze’s presence steady beside me. The candle continues to set, transforming into something new. Something beautiful.
“Hi.”
“Ember! Thank God.” Aria’s voice bursts through the speaker, breathless and urgent. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days. Don’t you have a phone?”
“No.” I’ve never owned a phone in my life. Too expensive. The phone trembles against my ear. “Been a little busy bleeding.” My attempt at humor falls flat.
“Not funny.” Paper rustles in the background. “I saw the news reports. A dozen children were rescued. That was you, wasn’t it? You and Blaze?”
“Him and his team.” The fresh candle catches the light, its surface smooth as glass. “I couldn’t leave them there. Not like…” The words stick in my throat.
“Not like before.” Her voice softens. “When you saved me. God, Ember, I never properly thanked you for that day on the street.”
“I didn’t do anything except get caught with you.”
“You sell yourself short. Not only did you try to help me, I heard what you did in the warehouse. You saved all the kids. You don’t get to be modest about that. You’re a hero.”
“If you say so.” I don’t feel like a hero.
Blaze’s hand settles on my lower back, steadying me as memories threaten to overwhelm me. His warmth anchors me to the present.
“Listen.” Excitement creeps back into Aria’s tone. “I’ve been talking to my father about your candles.”
“My what?” The world tilts slightly.
“Your candles. The ones you were selling that day. They’re amazing, and I… I want to invest.”
The room spins. Blaze’s arm tightens around my waist as my knees buckle.
“You want to, what?”
“Invest. Partner. Whatever you want to call it.” Keys click rapidly in the background. “I’ve already drafted a business plan. Proper workshop, distribution channels, and high-end boutiques. These aren’t just candles, Ember. They’re art.”
My free hand finds the workbench, gripping the edge. “Aria, I make them in a studio apartment with a hotplate and stolen supplies.”
“Not stolen. Resourcefully acquired.” Her laugh carries no judgment. “And that’s exactly my point. Look what you’ve created with nothing. Imagine what you could do with actual resources.”
Blaze guides me to sit, his body a solid wall of support behind me. His fingers trace patterns on my arm, grounding me in reality.
“I can’t accept?—”
“Yes, you can.” Steel enters her voice. “You saved my life. Let me help you build yours.”
Tears blur my vision. A sob catches in my chest.
“This isn’t charity,” she continues softly. “It’s business. Smart business. And maybe… Maybe it’s also about second chances. For both of us.”
Blaze’s lips brush my temple. “She’s right,” he murmurs. “You deserve this.”
“I don’t know the first thing about running a real business.” My voice cracks.
“That’s what partners are for.” Aria’s smile is audible. “Besides, I need something productive to do with my time. Therapy’s only three days a week.”
“You’re crazy, you know that?” I think she’s off her rocker. Who would want to invest in someone like me?
“Probably. Trauma does that to a person.” Papers shuffle again. “But I’m also right. Your candles… They’re more than just candles. They’re hope. Light in the darkness. God knows we could all use more of that. Oh, that would be a great slogan for our marketing.”
My eyes drift to the shelves lined with my creations. Each is a tiny beacon, a reminder that beauty can exist even in the darkest places.