Chapter 143

Kaelen

The problem with places that feel like home is that you start to believe they’re immune to war.

I should know better.

The firehouse is quieter than usual—late afternoon lull, most of the crew out on drills or errands. The engines sit in their bays like patient beasts, polished and ready. The air smells like oil, old smoke, and the faint ghost of coffee. Familiar. Grounding.

And wrong.

My dr