Page 5 of Her Ohio Old Flame

This was Peaceful—the camaraderie of his team, the predictable routines, the steady hum of small-town life. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was home. And as Zane stood there, a quiet pride swelling in his chest, he couldn’t imagine wanting anything else.

Chapter Three

The alarm blared to life, cutting through the mid-morning quiet like a knife. Zane barely glanced at the screen Megan held out before he registered the address.

24 Maple Lane.

For a moment, the world around him slowed, every sound muffled. His heart seemed to stop beating entirely before slamming back into motion, erratic and frantic, as if he’d just sprinted the length of the town. It was the Williams residence.

His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the edge of the dispatch counter. The years fell away in an instant, and he was eighteen again.

A week had passed since prom.

Zane sat on the front steps of his house, phone in hand, staring at the last text Asha had sent him.

Sorry, I had to leave early. Last-minute prep for my summer program. You understand, right?

But he didn’t understand.

The words sounded like an excuse, flimsy and distant, not at all like her. The Asha he knew didn’t shy away, didn’t hide. Yet, she hadn’t answered his calls—not the one he’d made that same morning or the three others he’d left over the next two days.

And now, nothing.

The lump in his throat felt heavier with each passing day. How could she simply vanish like that? After the way she’d smiled at him on prom night, after the way she’d rested her head on his shoulder as they danced?

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

“Chief?”

Tim’s query yanked Zane back to the present. He blinked, refocusing on the chaos around him. Megan was handing out assignments, the crew was moving into action, and the siren’s first wail cut through the stillness.

Zane’s “Right” was much gruffer than he intended, the word almost a bark, as he tried to shake off the memory. “Let’s move!”

Boots pounded against the floor as the team sprinted to the truck. Zane vaulted into the passenger seat, shouting orders as Jake slid into the driver’s seat, his jaw set. Rosales and Tim climbed into the back, already strapping on their gear.

The drive was a short five minutes, but the smoke rising into the clear blue June sky made Zane’s stomach churn. As they rounded the corner onto Maple Lane, he caught sight of the Williams residence, and his chest tightened further.

Jake killed the engine, and the team jumped out with practiced efficiency. Smoke billowed from the open kitchen windows, thick gray clouds rolling into the yard. The acrid smell of burning grease hit Zane like a punch to the gut, and the shrill screech of the smoke alarm inside only added to the chaos.

“Tim, you’re with me,” Zane ordered, pulling on his helmet and oxygen mask. “Two residents. Let’s find them.”

Inside, the heat slammed into them, oppressive and stifling. The smoke curled in thick tendrils, clinging to every surface and choking the air.

“Fire Department!” he bellowed over the roar of the flames. “Call out! Mr. and Mrs. Williams. Can you hear me?”

Zane and Tim found Mrs. Williams lying near the doorway, clutching a dishtowel to her face. Her left leg was twisted at an unnatural angle, and her eyes were wide with panic.

“Don’t worry,” Zane assured her, his voice muffled through the mask. “We’ll get you out.”

She nodded weakly, coughing as she pointed toward the stairs. “Asha… Harold… upstairs.”

Zane froze. Asha was here?

“Tim, get her outside. Watch her leg—could be her hip,” he ordered, already moving toward the staircase.

The steps groaned under his weight, while the smoke thickened with every step. At the top landing, a figure struggled under the weight of another.

“Asha!” Zane recognized her immediately.

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