Part One- Morning arrived with all the facts of a tow truck through the plate glass. Rae woke on the office couch with a Crick in her neck, one boot still on, and the sharp awareness that she had made several questionable decisions in under seventy-two hours. The power had come back sometime before dawn. The desk lamp glowed dimly in the corner where she must have left it switched on. Rainwater still dripped from the awning outside in slow, irregular taps. Then memory returned in bright, dangerous flashes. Smoke. Fire. Mason’s hands on her waist. His mouth in the dark. The way she had kissed him back like she’d forgotten caution existed. “Fantastic,” she muttered to the empty room. She sat up too quickly and regretted it immediately. Her hair was a mess. Her spine objected. Her heart, traitor that it was, seemed in suspiciously good spirits. The couch opposite hers was empty. No Mason. Of course, no Mason. He hadn’t stated. He’d left sometime after midnight when the rain soft
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