"Did you see that fire on the news?" I blur out as the screen switches to live footage. "It was on the corner of Alder and Pier," Mae says without looking up from her bowl. "Two alarms. Tenants out." "I called Gunnar," I say. "He should—" The line clicks. Static then a young voice, too quick. "Harbor City Fire Brigade, Dylan speaking." "Is Gunnar there?" I demand. "He's—" The voice stumbles. "He's out on a job." "Where? Is he—" The phone goes dead. The call drops. "No," I say. My hands tighten on the spatula. I set the pan down and push my chair back. "Elise, breathe," Mae says. She tries to reach across the table and I pull away. "My husband could be inside," I say. The sentence comes out sharp. I don't have time to shape it into a calm question. "Call the station again," Mae says. I hit redial. Rings. Rings. A man's voice answers before I can speak. "Station," Fabien says. His voice is steady. "This is Captain Harrison." "Is Gunnar Edwards—" "Captain, it's Elise Sandberg," I snap. "Is my husband on that call?" A few muffled orders in the background. Then: "Yes. He was on the first engine." The kitchen tilts. The TV shows black smoke and a camera crew yelling into a wind that smells like ash across the city. "Is he hurt?" I say. "Not that I—" Fabien's voice cuts. "Elise, stay home. They'll be okay