Chapter 3 · My Name In Flames

Chapter 3

On the way to the fire station, the taxi cruised down an old street.

Some of the streetlights were busted, their flickering glow reminding me of the orphanage hallway from years ago.

That year, Mike came to pick me up for the first time.

He was dressed in a sharp suit, crouched down, and placed a mint in my palm.

He said, "How about you go by Joanna for now? Just use it until we get home, then you can have your real name back."

I nodded, thinking he looked like someone straight out of a TV show.

The neon outside made my face look like a stranger's.

The driver asked, "Hey, we're here. Nobody coming for you?"

I saw someone standing at the fire station entrance, with a wide back and his cap pulled down low. He lifted his hand and gave me a whistle.

Ethan grabbed my suitcase, frowning. "Seriously, why are you soaked again? Did the Sterling family choose to kick you out or something?"

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice. "It's nothing."

He didn't push it. Just draped his jacket over my shoulders, guided me into the station office, and handed me a cup of hot chocolate.

Ethan picked up my wooden whistle and gave it a little shake. "Still got this on you?"

I nodded.

He grinned. "If something's up, don't hold it in. Just give it a blow, and I'll hear you."

I whispered, "Ethan, maybe I really don't have a place to call home."

He slid the cup closer. "Then just crash here for now. Home? We'll build it, one step at a time."

I stared at the old scar at the base of his thumb, and suddenly remembered Mike hitting the green "pass" button.

Some hands know how to shut you out. Others knew how to pull you back from the edge.

Ethan seemed to see how lost I looked and added softly, "Jo, don't be scared."

I clutched the wooden whistle, my throat aching.

I was twelve the first time the smoke got to me. I was coughing so hard I couldn't breathe. Ethan shoved me against the wall, putting himself between me and the flames.

"Easy, Jo," he said, showing me how to draw air. "Slow and steady. You gotta get through the fire first. The bright future comes later."

*****

Ethan cleared a spot in the office and set up a folding bed for me.

He said, "Just crash here tonight. Tomorrow, I'll take you to that apartment if you're up for it."

I didn't say yes or no.

I couldn't sleep. In the quiet, I listened to the steady footsteps of someone on their rounds in the hall and the soft gurgle of a kettle coming to a boil.

Those sounds felt solid, like the quiet rhythm of just being alive.

At three in the morning, Ethan pushed the door open, carrying a bag of warm milk.

He set it beside my pillow and said softly, "You look really pale."

I buried my face in the blanket and mumbled, "I'm fine."

He didn't call me out, just dimmed the lights.

"Joanna," he said suddenly.

I was caught off guard.

He never used the name the Sterling family gave me. He always just called me Jo.

He explained, "When I first met you, you were Joanna. That's who you are."

That one sentence made my eyes go hot.

*****

When morning came, I ended up going back to the Sterling residence.

I needed to grab my ID and the original paperwork. Mike had gotten them for me, and they were locked in the safe in his study.

Ethan offered to come along, but I just shook my head. I didn't want him there to watch me get thrown out.

But when I opened the door, Charlotte was standing in the living room. Like she'd been waiting for me.

She was wearing the white dress my mom bought me when I first arrived at the Sterling residence.

I only wore it once. That's because Charlotte had said, "Jo, you look so good in white. I want one just like it."

The next day, Mom bought her an even more expensive one.

When Charlotte saw me, she gave me a sickly sweet smile. "Jo, I thought you moved away. What are you doing back here?"

I walked right past her toward the study.

She followed, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Don't bother. Mike already said you're not allowed inside."

I stopped and looked back at her. "Then what are you so scared of?"

Her smile froze for a second before turning cold. "I'm scared you'll try to steal Mike from me."

Then she reached out and snatched the whistle hanging from my neck.

The cord snapped with a sharp pop. And the whistle hit the floor, bounced a couple of times, and came to a stop right at her feet.

Charlotte bent down and picked it up, running her fingers over the wood like she'd just won a prize. She tilted her head and said, "What's this? A rescue whistle? Or is it a souvenir from one of your little hookups out there?"

I lunged forward to grab it back.

But she just tossed the whistle right into the corner vase. The vase was full of fresh lilies, and as the water rippled, the whistle sank from view, dropping to the bottom like it had fallen down a well.

I lunged for it, but my wrist was seized in a tight grip.

Mike stood in the study doorway, his expression dark and stormy. He took in the dripping vase, the water, and the blood smeared across the back of my hand from where the lily stems had cut me.

Chapter 3

On the way to the fire station, the taxi cruised down an old street.

Some of the streetlights were busted, their flickering glow reminding me of the orphanage hallway from years ago.

That year, Mike came to pick me up for the first time.

He was dressed in a sharp suit, crouched down, and placed a mint in my palm.

He said, "How about you go by Joanna for now? Just use it until we get home, then you can have your real name back."

I nodded, thinking he looked like someone straight out of a TV show.

The neon outside made my face look like a stranger's.

The driver asked, "Hey, we're here. Nobody coming for you?"

I saw someone standing at the fire station entrance, with a wide back and his cap pulled down low. He lifted his hand and gave me a whistle.

Ethan grabbed my suitcase, frowning. "Seriously, why are you soaked again? Did the Sterling family choose to kick you out or something?"

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice. "It's nothing."

He didn't push it. Just draped his jacket over my shoulders, guided me into the station office, and handed me a cup of hot chocolate.

Ethan picked up my wooden whistle and gave it a little shake. "Still got this on you?"

I nodded.

He grinned. "If something's up, don't hold it in. Just give it a blow, and I'll hear you."

I whispered, "Ethan, maybe I really don't have a place to call home."

He slid the cup closer. "Then just crash here for now. Home? We'll build it, one step at a time."

I stared at the old scar at the base of his thumb, and suddenly remembered Mike hitting the green "pass" button.

Some hands know how to shut you out. Others knew how to pull you back from the edge.

Ethan seemed to see how lost I looked and added softly, "Jo, don't be scared."

I clutched the wooden whistle, my throat aching.

I was twelve the first time the smoke got to me. I was coughing so hard I couldn't breathe. Ethan shoved me against the wall, putting himself between me and the flames.

"Easy, Jo," he said, showing me how to draw air. "Slow and steady. You gotta get through the fire first. The bright future comes later."

*****

Ethan cleared a spot in the office and set up a folding bed for me.

He said, "Just crash here tonight. Tomorrow, I'll take you to that apartment if you're up for it."

I didn't say yes or no.

I couldn't sleep. In the quiet, I listened to the steady footsteps of someone on their rounds in the hall and the soft gurgle of a kettle coming to a boil.

Those sounds felt solid, like the quiet rhythm of just being alive.

At three in the morning, Ethan pushed the door open, carrying a bag of warm milk.

He set it beside my pillow and said softly, "You look really pale."

I buried my face in the blanket and mumbled, "I'm fine."

He didn't call me out, just dimmed the lights.

"Joanna," he said suddenly.

I was caught off guard.

He never used the name the Sterling family gave me. He always just called me Jo.

He explained, "When I first met you, you were Joanna. That's who you are."

That one sentence made my eyes go hot.

*****

When morning came, I ended up going back to the Sterling residence.

I needed to grab my ID and the original paperwork. Mike had gotten them for me, and they were locked in the safe in his study.

Ethan offered to come along, but I just shook my head. I didn't want him there to watch me get thrown out.

But when I opened the door, Charlotte was standing in the living room. Like she'd been waiting for me.

She was wearing the white dress my mom bought me when I first arrived at the Sterling residence.

I only wore it once. That's because Charlotte had said, "Jo, you look so good in white. I want one just like it."

The next day, Mom bought her an even more expensive one.

When Charlotte saw me, she gave me a sickly sweet smile. "Jo, I thought you moved away. What are you doing back here?"

I walked right past her toward the study.

She followed, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Don't bother. Mike already said you're not allowed inside."

I stopped and looked back at her. "Then what are you so scared of?"

Her smile froze for a second before turning cold. "I'm scared you'll try to steal Mike from me."

Then she reached out and snatched the whistle hanging from my neck.

The cord snapped with a sharp pop. And the whistle hit the floor, bounced a couple of times, and came to a stop right at her feet.

I lunged forward to grab it back.

I lunged for it, but my wrist was seized in a tight grip.

Mike stood in the study doorway, his expression dark and stormy. He took in the dripping vase, the water, and the blood smeared across the back of my hand from where the lily stems had cut me.