Chapter 1 — Ashes in His Sleep
"You had the dream again, didn't you?"
The voice was calm, professional — yet impossibly intrusive.
Kevin Hargrim sat on the couch, legs crossed, hood up. His hands fidgeted in his lap, thumbs rubbing over each other as though trying to erase themselves. The psychologist's office was warm, beige, and suffocating. Bookshelves lined the walls, their spines neat and orderly, mocking the chaos in his head.
"Yes," Kevin muttered.
Dr. Corvan didn't move, except to scribble something in her folder. That sound — the scratch of pen on paper — always made him tense.
"Tell me about it," she said gently.
Kevin swallowed. His throat was dry. "It's the same," he murmured, eyes fixed on the floor. "The fire. The woods. I can't see anything at first — just smoke. But I know she's in there."
He could feel her eyes on him from behind the glasses, but he didn't look up.
"I hear her calling me. Always the same way. 'Kev? Kevin?' And I… I run, but…" His shoulders hunched. "It's too late. It's always too late. I see her in the clearing, and everything's already burning. She's standing there, looking at me. Smiling."
His voice cracked on the last word. He forced the rest out: "Then the fire takes her. And I just stand there and watch."
He could feel his chest tightening — that familiar, heavy knot forming again.
"And when you wake up?" Dr. Corvan asked softly.
Kevin exhaled through his nose. "…It feels real. Like I can still smell the smoke. Like it's stuck to me. Like… like I was there. Still there."
She nodded, jotting something down, then set her pen aside. "Kevin… it's been five years. You know this isn't your fault. You couldn't have saved her. You were only a child."
Kevin finally looked up. His storm-grey eyes were flat, cold.
"You weren't there," he said quietly.
Dr. Corvan didn't flinch — she never did — but the silence that followed felt sharp.
After a long moment, she folded her hands in her lap. "I know you've been through something no one your age should have to. But you have to stop punishing yourself, Kevin. She wouldn't want that for you."
Kevin stared at her, then back at the floor. He wanted to believe her. But every night the dream reminded him: he could've done something. Anything.
Instead, he froze.
Instead… he watched her burn.
The clock on the wall ticked once. Twice.
Dr. Corvan closed her folder and offered him a faint smile. "That's enough for today. Same time next week?"
Kevin stood, pulling his hood further over his head. He didn't answer — just nodded and slipped out the door.
Outside, the air was cool and dry. Summer was ending, and the faint smell of smoke from a distant campfire drifted through the evening breeze.
Kevin stopped walking, staring off at the horizon where the sky blazed orange over the hills.
For a moment, his fingers twitched — as if remembering heat.
As if the fire was still there, waiting for him to step back in.