3 Love Letters in the Embers

: One

Trapped in the blaze, I shielded Mother Croft, who has Alzheimer's, while calling Noah Croft 99 times.

As a roof beam collapsed, Noah Croft's impatient roar echoed through the phone.

"I'm rushing downtown to a fire! It's not like I'm deliberately avoiding coming home. Stop calling me when you've got nothing better to do! Can't we talk about whatever unimportant thing this is later?"

Gazing at the exit, so tantalizingly close, I used the last of my strength to shove Mother Croft out of the inferno.

As for me, I took my final breath amidst the raging flames.

'Noah Croft, some things can never be said now.'

My body felt lighter and lighter as I slowly drifted up above the blaze.

My only companion was the phone Noah Croft had given me.

A notification appeared on the screen.

Text messages remaining: 3.

1

Without a second thought, I started composing a text:

'I'm not just making a scene. I'm trapped downtown. He needs to come save us...'

But no matter how many times I hit send, the phone kept giving me the same notification: Message must not exceed five words.

I let out a bitter laugh.

'Because I'm mute, it won't even give me the chance to send a few extra words.'

In the end, I had to delete my message, word by word, and type out, "Please come save Mother Croft."

The screen showed "Message sent." Clutching the phone, I drifted out to find Mother Croft.

She was outside the perimeter of the fire, held back by the fleeing crowds. Her face was smudged with soot, and she was soaked to the bone.

Noah Croft rushed over, wrapping Mother Croft in his jacket and anxiously checking her over.

She wasn't seriously hurt, just some minor scrapes.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

The next moment, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out, saw my text message, and his expression instantly darkened.

"Sia Thorne, you have the gall to be sending me text messages? Is this how you take care of Mom? Don't you see she's completely drenched!"

"Mom ran right to the scene of a fire and nearly died! If anything had happened to her, I'd never forgive you!"

"Where the hell are you! Get over here and take care of her now!"

He sent three voice messages in a row, his voice so loud the people around them could hear every word.

I looked at my phone's lock screen—a picture of him holding me, his eyes filled with nothing but me.

'Back then, he'd told me so gently, "No matter how far apart we are, just call my number, and I'll come rushing to your side."'

Now, he was stabbing at me with the most vicious words imaginable.

I drifted in front of him, signing with my hands that I was right there.

But Noah Croft couldn't see me. He just stared intently at his phone, his lips drawn into a tight line.

My fingers gently brushed across his smiling face on the screen as I composed my second text message:

"I am already dead."

When he saw my message, the tension in Noah Croft's expression eased, quickly replaced by a cold sneer.

"Can't you be a little more reasonable? Of all the times to throw a tantrum, you choose now?"

"I know you're upset with me, but this is going too far. You don't joke about being dead, no matter how angry you are."

Hearing him yelling, Mother Croft grew agitated, her eyes turning red. "Sia..."

Noah Croft sneered. "What could possibly be wrong with her? Her own mother-in-law almost dies, and what does she do? She has the time to sit around sending me texts pretending she's dead!"

"Mom, let's get you to the hospital..."

Noah Croft took hold of his mother, about to lead her away, but Mother Croft stood rooted to the spot. When she saw he didn't understand, she began signing frantically.

Watching her sign, I remembered the first time Noah Croft introduced us. I was so self-conscious about being mute, so careful with every move, terrified she would look down on me.

But she didn't look down on me at all. Instead, seeing that I was mute, she just compassionately placed more food on my plate.

By my second visit a month later, Mother Croft could already carry on a basic conversation with me in sign language.

After Mother Croft developed Alzheimer's two years ago, her mind was often clouded, leaving her like a confused child.

But somewhere in the depths of her hazy memory, she still remembered how to sign.

She used her burned hands to desperately sign to him that I was still in the fire.

But when Noah Croft saw her burned hands, he immediately placed his mother in the care of Sylvia Travers, who was standing nearby.

"Sylvia, my mom burned her hands. Take her and get them treated, quickly."

He turned back to his mother, his voice gentle and coaxing. "I still have to deal with the fire. Is it okay if Sylvia takes you to the hospital?"

Mother Croft's expression grew even more frantic. She stared desperately into the blaze, repeatedly crying out my name.

Noah Croft froze, his gaze snapping toward the fire in stunned confusion.

The blaze had been extinguished, leaving nothing but a field of ash.

I watched him take a few quick steps forward, running right into the Deputy Captain, who was walking toward him.

"Was anyone trapped inside?"

Noah Croft's voice held a slight tremor.

The Deputy Captain shook his head. "It was a restaurant. The manager said they caught the fire early, so there was more than enough time for everyone to get out."

"Our guys just did a headcount with the owner. No casualties, and nobody heard any calls for help."

Noah Croft nodded, but his face quickly flooded with the anger of someone who'd been deceived.

"Good work, everyone. It's getting late. Let's pack it up and get some rest. We can handle the cleanup tomorrow."

"What about Sia Thorne...?" the Deputy Captain asked hesitantly, having clearly heard Mother Croft crying out my name.

Noah Croft let out a cold laugh.

"Don't worry about her."

"You said it yourself—there was plenty of time to escape. Sia Thorne isn't dumb enough to run *into* a fire, is she? She's mute, not helpless."

"Besides..."

He shoved his phone in the Deputy Captain's face, showing him the text.

"See? She's got the time to be sending me messages."

I followed him, watching the cold set of his back as he ordered the rescue team to pull out.

I looked down at the notification on my phone: "Text messages remaining: 1."

Finally, I silently put the phone away.

'Since he won't believe anything I say anyway, there's no point in using my last chance.'