Officer Hayes told the story slowly.
Years ago, on the night my parents died, another child had been nearby. A boy riding home with his father had seen the crash. He had seen the flames. He had heard shouting before the car was swallowed by smoke.
That boy was Daniel.
He had been only a child himself, terrified and shaking, but he ran toward the wreckage when others froze. Before the fire spread completely, he pulled open the damaged door and dragged me out.
I had no memory of it.
Only nightmares. Heat. Sirens. Darkness.
Officer Hayes looked at Daniel with quiet respect.
“He saved your life, Emily.”
The words struck me so deeply I couldn’t speak.
The boy who had just asked me to dance was not stepping into my life for the first time.
He had been there at the beginning of my second life.