Page 51 of Healing Hearts
"Charlie!" I shout, rushing toward her as she hands the woman off to a firefighter.
Her head snaps toward me, her eyes wide and wild. “Brooke, get back! It’s not safe here!” she yells, her voice raw.
“Neither is what you’re doing!” I counter, grabbing her arm as she turns back toward the building. “Charlie, you’ve done enough. Let the firefighters handle the rest.”
She shakes me off, her eyes blazing. “There are still people in there!” she shouts, her voice breaking. “I can’t just stand here and do nothing!”
“Stop!” I plead, my grip tightening on her arm. “You can’t help anyone if you get hurt—or worse. Charlie, please!”
Before she can argue further, Chance, one of the firefighters approaches, gently but firmly taking her by the shoulders. “We’ve got it from here, Charlie,” he says, his voice steady but insistent. “You need to step back.”
Charlie hesitates, her breathing ragged as she looks back at the flames, her face etched with anguish. Finally, she nods, allowing Chance to guide her away from the building.
I stay by her side as we retreat to a safer distance, the intense heat from the fire still palpable even from here. Charlie’s hands shake as she rakes them through her soot-streaked hair, both of us watching as firefighters battle the relentless flames. The heat is intense, the roar of the fire a constant reminder of its power.
“This was supposed to be a good night,” she mutters, her voice thick with emotion. “We were full—every table. And now…” She trails off, her eyes fixed on the blaze.
“Everyone’s going to be okay,” I say, trying to reassure her, though my own heart feels like it’s lodged in my throat. “You got so many people out, Charlie. You saved lives tonight.”
She looks at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and for a moment, her tough exterior cracks. “I just—what if someone’s still in there?”
“They’ll find them,” I say, squeezing her arm. “You’ve done everything you could.”
My focus shifts to the chaotic scene. Sawyer Gallo, the restaurant’s owner, is pacing near the firefighters, shouting Charlie’s name. His face is etched with worry, his usually neat appearance disheveled.
“Charlie!” I hear Sawyer yell. “Where’s Charlie?”
“I’m over here, Sawyer” she calls back to him.
“Charlie!” He calls out, running toward her. “Are you okay?”
She waves him off, coughing. “I’m fine.”
Our conversation is cut short by a sudden, familiar voice—a sharp, cutting tone that doesn’t belong in this moment of chaos.
“Well, isn’t this a picture-perfect scene? The author and the chef pretending to be heroes.” She completely ignores Sawyer standing right there with us.
My stomach churns as I turn to see Vivian striding toward us, her face twisted in an infuriating smirk. She’s dressed in scrubs, though they’re pristine, and it’s clear she’s more interested in stirring the pot than actually helping the injured.
“What are you doing here, Vivian?” I ask, perturbed that she’s even here.
“Unlike you, I have a real job and I’m here to help.” She answers.
Charlie stiffens beside me, muttering under her breath, “Oh, here we go. Go away, Vivian. No one’s got time for your dramatics right now.”
Vivian ignores her, her gaze locking onto mine like a predator. “You think you’re some kind of hero, don’t you?” she sneers. “Saving lives, playing the supportive girlfriend. But we all know the truth about you.”
“Vivian,” I say, my voice low and warning. “This isn’t the time or place.”
She takes a step closer, her lips curling into a cruel smile. “Oh, I think it’s the perfect time. Everyone’s already watching. Might as well give them something to talk about.”
Before I can respond, Vivian’s hand moves to her pocket, and time seems to slow.
“Vivian!” I snap, my voice sharp. “What are you doing?”
She pulls out a small scalpel, leveling it at me with trembling hands. The crowd around us gasps, and my heart feels like it stops. Sawyer tries to pull both Charlie and I behind him, but Vivian maneuvers so that she’s pointing the scalpel close to all three of us.
From where Trevor is standing, I see him freeze, his eyes wide with horror. Then, without hesitation, he starts running toward us, shouting something I can’t make out over the chaos.
