Hannah Harper Ablaze -split Scenes- Instant

Inside, the fire is beautiful. It knows her name.

She touches the scar on her forearm — a souvenir from her last year on the line. "He's getting faster," she mutters. The arsonist leaves no footprints, no witnesses. Just heat and ash.

She lets the heat touch her face.

Hannah grabs her jacket. In the rearview mirror, her eyes reflect the glow of a distant horizon that isn't dawn. Same time. Abandoned St. Mary's Church.

"No. That was feeding the hunger. You just had a badge on your chest and a hose in your hand. I just dropped the pretense." Hannah Harper ABLAZE -Split Scenes-

She smiles.

The flames move like dancers — hungry, precise. Wooden pews crackle in unison. Stained glass explodes outward, shards landing on the wet grass like frozen confetti. Inside, the fire is beautiful

Her phone buzzes. Dispatch: New fire. Old St. Mary's Church. Ten minutes ago.

"You spent fifteen years putting out fires, Hannah," she says to the empty pews. "I've spent five years starting them. We're not so different. You just never admitted you loved the heat." "He's getting faster," she mutters