The sirens still echoed faintly in the distance as I scrubbed soot from my hands in the locker room sink, heart pounding harder than it had during the entire chase. We hadn't caught the arsonist—just a kid tagging the old mill's wall. But the look in Rafe's eyes when he'd stared down the chain-link fence told me he wasn't just chasing suspects anymore.

He was chasing something deeper. And I wasn't sure if I was ready for what he'd find.

I dried my hands and opened my locker, fingers trembling. A single envelope sat neatly folded on the top shelf. My father's handwriting scrawled across it: "DO NOT OPEN AT THE STATION."

Too late.

I yanked it open, breath catching as I scanned the enclosed page. A legal document. My full name—Celeste Vassar Sterling—printed in bold. Founder's shares, property titles, stakes in half the city. All of it tied to the Vassar estate. All of it damning.

And behind me—silence.

I turned slowly.

Rafe stood in the doorway, unreadable. A piece of paper dangled from his hand.

"Sterling?" His voice was low, dangerous. "That's what the 'S' stands for."

I froze. "Rafe—"

"You're a Vassar. The Vassar. The family whose construction deal burned the East End alive two years ago. You changed your name and waltzed into my station like you were just another recruit?"

The sting of betrayal in his voice felt like a slap.

"I didn't waltz," I snapped, stepping forward. "I earned my place. I worked for it. I passed everything—"

"Under false pretenses."

"No!" My voice cracked. "I didn't want special treatment. I wanted to matter for once, Rafe. Not as some legacy. Not as a dollar sign. As someone who—"

"—who what?" he cut in. "Needed to clear her family name? Play hero to erase guilt?"

"That's not fair."

He stared at me, eyes hard. "You lied to every single person in this station. To me."

I took a shaky breath. "I was going to tell you. After the probationary period. I just— I wanted to be seen for who I am. Not the name I carry."

Rafe dropped the paper. It fluttered to the tiled floor like ash.

"You think that erases what your family did? We lost six firefighters in that collapse. Your father fought every safety regulation we proposed. And now I find out you're his daughter—"

"I'm not him." My voice trembled. "I left that life. I turned my back on it."

He shook his head slowly, the rawness in his voice cutting deep. "You should've told me the truth."

Silence settled like dust.

Then he turned and walked out, boots echoing down the hallway.

I stood there alone, the weight of my last name crushing the oxygen from my lungs. For a moment, I wished the fire had taken everything—titles, shares, legacy.

Because the only thing I really wanted to keep... had just walked away.