After the Fire

Jessica stepped through the doors of Black Orchid Investigations, the air thick with the scent of coffee and old paper. It felt the same. Like she had never left.

Leanna was at the desk, flipping through documents. Olivia sat with her laptop open, eyes scanning lines of data.

The moment Jessica walked in, they both looked up. Neither spoke. They just stared.

Jessica dropped her bag on the floor. Exhaled.

Then, finally, Olivia broke the silence. “You good?”

Jessica didn’t answer immediately. Then: “Yeah.”

Leanna raised an eyebrow. “Liar.”

Jessica almost smiled. Almost.

No one asked questions. Not yet. Instead, Olivia reached for the bottle of whiskey on the shelf. Poured three glasses and set them down on the desk.

Jessica took hers, rolled it between her fingers, and the three of them sat in silence for a long time.

Finally, Leanna spoke. “So. What’s next?”

Jessica thought about that, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t have an immediate answer. She had burned everything, but the people pulling the strings. They were still out there.

She looked at Leanna, then Olivia. Her team. Her family. Then, slowly, she smiled. A real smile. “We find out who’s really pulling the strings.”

She raised her glass. Leanna and Olivia did the same. They drank.

The fight wasn’t over. It never was.

* * *

Later that night, Jessica stood in front of the bathroom mirror. For the first time, she really looked at herself. Not as Jason. Not as an experiment. Not as a pawn. Just Jessica Sanchez.

Later that night, Jessica stood in front of the bathroom mirror, fingers still warm from the glass of whiskey. The light above flickered. It was cheap, fluorescent, and honest.

She studied her reflection. Not Jason. Not a clone. Not a weapon. Just Jessica Sanchez.

The scar above her brow. The tired eyes. The shape of a face she had grown into, not been given. She knew who she was now. And for the first time, she didn’t flinch.