MARION

The meeting was dragging. Clara stood across from me, rattling off figures and projections I’d already reviewed twice this morning. I was two seconds from cutting her off when a soft knock hit the door.

“Come in,” I said, sharper than I meant to.

The door opened, and in stepped Demetria.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

There she was. My Wildfire, standing in my office for the first time, with a small white box in her hand, her expression calm but her eyes alive.

The ...