The fire crackled low in the grate when Kira knelt before it, the photographs and the note clutched in her hand.
She did not let herself look at them again. She had seen quite enough. One by one she fed them into the flames, The paper curled and blackened and caught, the edges glowing orange before crumbling to ash.
She watched until there was nothing left but flakes of grey, and only then did she let out a long breath.
It changed nothing, of course. Brian had the originals. But there was something steadying about watching even copies of her secret turn to nothing in the fire.
She rose, brushed off her hands, and went to find Jessica.
Pushing the door open gently, she was relieved to find only Jessica inside, seated beside the bed where Kai lay resting, and finally, mercifully, breathing on his own.
Jessica looked up, her face brightening at the sight of her friend.
"Kira! Come in," Jessica whispered, though her voice carried a note of barely contained joy.
