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Beatrice

The call came in just after three in the morning—a fire at an abandoned shipping warehouse on the far end of town. We were dressed and out the door in minutes. Katherine was already suited up when I got downstairs, calm and efficient as always. I thought she left, why did she stay the night?

“You ready for this?” she asked, tightening her gear. She had a strange look in her eyes.

I nodded. “Let’s do it.”

But something about her expression caught me—too smooth, too prepared. I shook the thought. Now wasn’t the time.

* * *

When we reached the site, the fire had already consumed most of the back of the building. Orange flames licked the roofline, smoke pouring into the sky.

I followed Katherine around the west side while the others attacked from the front.

“Watch your step,” she said, her voice muffled behind the mask. “Looks unstable.”

The words had barely left her mouth when something cracked above me. I looked up—too late. A beam snapped and crashed down, slamming into my shoulder and knocking me to the floor.

“Beatrice!” Katherine’s voice rang out, but she didn’t move toward me right away. I saw her hesitate.

Just for a couple of seconds, she had a strange look on her face. Did she smile? I thought she would leave me there. I shook my head. I’m sure it was my imagination.

Then she rushed forward, calling for help. “She’s down! We need a stretcher—now!”

“I feel awful,” she said. I should have warned you sooner. I saw the beam sagging, and I”— she swallowed. “I hesitated. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault the beam fell.” I said, shifting with a wince. “You did come back for me.”

* * *

They got me out fast. The paramedics said it wasn’t serious—just a deep bruise. The captain insisted I take a couple of days off.

“You’re lucky it wasn’t worse,” he said. “Rest up. Let your team handle this for a bit.”

But I couldn’t stop seeing that look on Katherine's face. She had so much hatred in her eyes. Was that directed at me, or was it the fire she hated? Something is going on with her and I will find out what it is.

I was alone in the firehouse the next morning. The sky outside hadn’t even started to lighten, but the building hummed with the quiet pulse of electricity and old coffee.

I moved fast. I had maybe thirty minutes before the others rolled in, and even less before Katherine showed up. If she caught me digging through her files without permission, I’d have hell to pay. But that feeling was still there—like I was standing too close to a live wire.

I logged into the department server and accessed the system logs. Everything was time-stamped—who logged in, what files they opened, how long they stayed in each folder.

I searched her ID: K.Laurent87.

Nothing unusual… until I went back two weeks. That’s when things got weird.

Three-forty-seven a.m.

Accessed: Building Plans – Warehouse District

Accessed: Evidence Photos – Bomb Scene

Accessed: Forensics Analysis Drafts (Unapproved)

Why would Katherine be logging in that early—before the bomb even went off?

I stared at the screen.

The bombing occurred at five-twelve a.m. That meant she was inside the database nearly an hour and a half before the explosion, looking at layouts of the very building that would later be reduced to ash and twisted steel.

My stomach dropped.

I clicked into the draft report she’d accessed. It wasn’t even supposed to exist yet. It mentioned bomb components… before those components had even been collected.

My chest tightened. Was this real? Was I being set up?

I copied the logs to a thumb drive from my pocket and shut everything down just as the front door opened.

Footsteps.

I quickly turned from the desk and forced a casual stretch, pretending I was just getting started on shift paperwork.

Katherine walked in, holding a steaming coffee to-go cup, her expression unreadable as always.

“You’re here early again ,” she said, almost amused.

“Couldn’t sleep.” I smiled and moved away from the computer, my heart pounding so loud I was sure she could hear it. “I keep thinking about that missing fragment.”

She paused, tilting her head. “Still chasing ghosts?”

“Something like that.”

Her eyes lingered on me a beat too long.

Then she smiled. “Let me know if you find one.”

As she turned toward her desk, I slipped the thumb drive into my jacket pocket.

If I was wrong… I was going to destroy someone’s career.

But if I was right… she was already trying to destroy mine.