Between Flames and Promises

t I couldn't control myself anymore. Every time I saw him, it brought back the memories of our l

rt ways, to leave things on a note

re, but that day, he did. He wept

I didn't return to the home we had shared.

se. Lorenzo, however, didn't give up. Every day, he brought homemade food to my parents' doorstep. He knew I might not eat

uld sit outside my bedroom door, sharing stories about his life in the fire

, happier times. Those memories played like a film in my mind

tion. My parents, however, were overjoyed to see me stepping out. Their faces, aged with worry over the

They seemed to understand, pu

ispered, her voice trembling. "We're he

ndless spiral of guilt, convinced that it was my failure to

ght of my sorrow, I couldn't bear it. For their sake, I thought, maybe I could try.

s I was gathering every ounce of strength to

ting outside my door, telling me stories. And now, the next

e western outskirts, a chemical factory had suffered a massive explosion due to an operational error. The entire stru

entered was consumed by intense flames, but faint cries for help could be heard fr

by carbon monoxide. Time was running out; the worker needed to be evac

r just a few breaths, and death follows within 13 minutes. Without hesit