“You should come home with me over reading break,” Helen says, her head resting on my lap. Beneath the shade of the ginkgo tree, I watch the other students sitting on the grass from a distance. Helen’s eyes are half-closed. I take her hand, our fingers lazily intertwining.

“I have to study,” I say with a groan. “Our chem midterm is after the break.” I know I’ll do well, but I’m still worried.

“Come on, June!” she says. “My mom wants to meet you, and she’s throwing me this birthday party. You’d love it.” She’s turning eighteen, a month before I do.

I run my fingers through her hair, sighing as I consider it. “Okay,” I concede. “I’ll go.” I’ve never been able to resist her. Her skin glows in the sunlight, and when she beams up at me like this, all my doubts seem to melt away. I toy with the reflective gold chain resting on her collarbone. I’d give anything to be so perfect, and I think she knows.

~

That night, I stare into the light of my phone, half-asleep as I read my little sister’s message.

Sylvia writes, Are you coming home over reading break?

When I left, I swore to my little sister it wouldn’t be for good. I type and retype my message. Don’t think so. Sorry. I’ll see you at Christmas.

~

We’ve left the university behind us. Helen booked us a private train compartment. Its floor-to-ceiling windows look out on what must have been a lovely view once. In its place, the skeletal remains of burned houses and trees stand like toothpicks against a field of ash. I flick through chem flashcards, trying to ignore the wreckage around us. Helen isn’t worried about the test; she knows she’ll ace it. Everything is easy for her like that.

Helen sighs. “It used to be so beautiful here. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose your home.”

“I grew up in the Wastelands. None of our houses lasted longer than a few years before the fires came,” I say. The words slip out before I can think them through. Helen’s eyes widen, and she looks back at me from the window. I shift away, staring out the window so she won’t see the flush of my cheeks.

“Oh my God… You never told me,” she says.

“The thing about it is,” I say. “Every time, you lose a piece of yourself, and you don’t get it back.” My voice catches in my throat. I look away. Helen gently holds my shaking hands still and kisses my knuckles. She pulls me into her. I let her trace circles down my spine as our breathing falls into sync.

~

Helen’s childhood home is just as I imagined: massive windows, marble countertops, vaulted ceilings, surrounded by an absurdly large lawn. When we arrive, the table is set for dinner; the bowls and plates all match. I look down at myself, second-guessing my worn-out jeans. I can’t believe this is my life: since I sat down beside Helen in intro chemistry three months ago, it’s like I’ve stepped through the looking glass.

“Mom,” Helen says proudly, holding my hand. “This is June. My girlfriend.”

My heart thunders. “It’s nice to meet you, Evelyn,” I say, hoping my face isn’t too flushed with anxiety. I present the lilies I bought for her, wrapped in crinkly cellophane. There’s something familiar about her, but I can’t place it.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” she says. “Helen has been telling me all about you. A chem major, just like her! I’ve heard you’re quite the scholar.” She smiles, setting the flowers on the counter.

I nod, laughing nervously. “It’s just hard work. Anyone could do the same if they wanted it bad enough.” My words are more revealing than I meant them to be. But it’s true: people like Helen have the luxury of wasting their time. If I fail, there’s nothing for me to fall back on.

“The world would be better if everyone thought that way. What do you think you’ll do with your degree?” Evelyn smiles, taking a sip of her drink.

“Get my doctorate, probably in chemistry.”

Evelyn laughs. “You and Helen really are the same.”

My cheeks flush. “I want to be a researcher.” It’s the career I’ve dreamed of since I was young, though dream seems too pretty a word to describe the violent desperation that tugs at my throat when I think of it. “What do you do for work?”

“Oh,” she says. “I’ve been managing the city’s wildfire response for quite some time. Didn’t Helen tell you?”

It clicks into place. Sylvia and I used to watch her on the news, as she announced year after year that we weren’t worth the resources to save.

I glance at Helen, my stomach churning. “She didn’t mention it.”

I try to forget about it as we chat over dinner, but I can’t quite get it off my mind. If I weren’t dating her daughter, this woman would have no qualms about letting me burn.

~

Helen’s bedroom is like a whole apartment, with a separate ensuite bathroom and a king-sized bed. I can’t help but marvel at its floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and bay windows. Through the haze of the smoke, the city lights are strangely dim.

Helen sits cross-legged in bed, reading a novel.

I sit on a velvet loveseat by the window, unable to stop the rush of my thoughts. I can’t relax. Everything is too nice, and I’m a wrecking ball of clumsy limbs. I yearn for my childhood home for the first time since I left. I miss the dusty shelves and the chipped dishes, the taste of ash in the air.

I swore to myself that I’d escape it. I worked day and night to get into the city’s most prestigious university. Somehow, I got lucky, and within the span of three months, I’ve gone from sharing a cramped room with my sister to living in a sleek studio apartment on campus. At every moment, I can’t help but think of how it could all be swept out from under me.

“Are you okay?” she asks. “You’ve been so quiet.”

She climbs out of bed and sits down beside me. Her arms wrap around my waist, and I feel her lips press into my shoulder.

“I used to hate your mom,” I say. “When I saw her on the news, I just blamed her for everything.” I can’t bear to say the truth outright, bracing for Helen’s recoil.

“I know it’s messed up. But… it’s all in the past, isn’t it?” Helen murmurs.

I give her half a smile, and cling to the words like a lifeline as I drift to the edge of sleep. Beside me, Helen breathes easy.

My phone lights up, the glow of the screen illuminating the room.

Syliva again. You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?

None of your business, I reply.

Sylvia responds almost instantly. I knew it. You promised me you wouldn’t leave me and now you’re off kissing some girl you met at school like you’re going to become her.

~

The next morning, Evelyn and I sing “Happy Birthday” as Helen comes downstairs for breakfast. I press kisses to her cheeks as she opens presents, and giggle as Evelyn tells me stories of Helen’s childhood. I can’t help but think of my own birthdays, and how lacklustre they seem in comparison.

When we finally come upstairs, Helen has set out an outfit on the bed for me.

“What’s this?” I ask, looking back at her.

“For the party tonight,” Helen says. She grins ear-to-ear. It’s navy blue, with a flowing floor-length skirt. I change, then stand back, examining myself in the mirror. I look nothing like me: too lovely, too coiffed. “And I got you this necklace,” Helen says. Its gold chain and diamond pendant shimmer in the soft afternoon light.

“Helen, it’s your birthday. I don’t need gifts. Besides, that must have cost a fortune.” I already feel guilty enough for only getting her a book on Greek mythology.

“June.” She tilts my chin up to meet her eyes. “I’m not taking it back.”

She removes the necklace from its box. Her fingers graze against my neck as she secures the chain.

“You look so good,” she whispers as she pulls away, sending chills down my spine.

God. She’s so sweet, it’s sickening.

~

I watch, transfixed, as Helen pins her curls into an updo. My phone’s ringing snaps me out of my daze.

“Who’s that?” Helen asks, looking over her shoulder.

“My sister,” I say. “Hang on.” I step out into the hall, closing the door behind me. “Sylvia?”

Her voice is grainy through the line. Through tears, she says, “We just got told to evacuate. Haven’t you checked the news? Dad went out yesterday and hasn’t come home. He took the car, so I can’t get anywhere.” She sounds angry, heartbroken, and exhausted. “The neighbours don’t have room. They’re saying we have to clear a fifty-kilometre perimeter around the city. I can’t get that far by foot!”

The real world comes crashing down around me, the indulgence and frivolity of the last few days suddenly blindingly apparent. Even here, the fires find me.

“I don’t know what you want me to do. I don’t have a car, and even if I did, I’d never make it in time,” I say. I only realize how mean I sound after it’s too late to take it back. But it’s true. I remember the thick traffic, cars all honking frantically as smoke pressed in, Dad cursing at the steering wheel. Sylvia and I used to hold each other in the backseat, too scared to argue.

There’s something else too: I can’t leave now. Helen wouldn’t get it. Evelyn would think I’d lost my mind.

“So, what, you’re just going to leave me here?”

I run my hands through my hair, closing my eyes. “Calm down. I’ll figure this out, okay?”

~

I find Evelyn in the foyer, muttering as she ticks items off a checklist.
She looks up. “June! Oh, you look gorgeous.”

I thank her hastily, too scared to be flattered. “I need a favour.”

She raises her brows. “Oh?”

“My little sister lives in the Wastelands.” My cheeks burn. I look away. “She needs to get out, fast.”

“Doesn’t she have… parents?”

She used to have me.

My voice grows thick with tears, and my brow furrows to hold them in. “Our dad is useless and apparently gone. I can’t get to her in time. The train lines don’t go out that far, and she’ll never make it on foot.” I clench my fists so tight it hurts. “Please. She’s only fourteen.”

“What do you want me to do?” Evelyn asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“She needs a ride into a safe zone. You must know someone who could help.”

She considers me for a moment, then sighs. “Give me her information. I’ll see what I can do.”

I throw my arms around her. “Thank you.”

She strokes the back of my head. “It’s no trouble. You should call her. Tell her she’ll be fine, sweetheart.” She speaks to me almost like a mother. I can’t help but imagine that I could slip quietly into this family and never leave. This life could be mine.

~

The downstairs lobby is filled with guests in immaculate suits and dresses. Servers circle the room, carrying plates of appetizers and glasses of wine. Helen glows in a shimmering gold gown. I can’t help but imagine her in a wedding dress someday, walking toward me. She’d put me to shame.

She beams across the room and waves me over. I listen to her private school friends trade stories of their trips abroad. I sip slowly at my drink, checking my phone to make sure Sylvia hasn’t called.

When I can’t take it anymore, I slip away, dropping Helen’s hand. She looks over her shoulder.

“I’ll be back,” I murmur. She nods, watching me for a moment before returning to her conversation.

I search for Evelyn amid dozens of bodies with their beautiful clothes and their sparkling jewels. The air is too hot, the people too crowded. I find her mid-conversation with someone by the glass table housing a towering, tiered cake.

“Evelyn, have you sent someone for my sister? I haven’t heard from her.”

She blinks. “Oh! I haven’t gotten to it yet, sweetheart. I’ll deal with it after the party.”

“She doesn’t have that long,” I insist. I pull up the wildfire map on my phone, brandishing it at Evelyn. “It’s already—”

I look down at the map, watching as the graphics change. Small red markers show the blaze consuming our neighbourhood. Evelyn steps backward, bumping into the table. I push closer, until we’re eye to eye. Her vanilla perfume makes me sick.

“How could you?” I ask. I’m too soft. Too quiet.

“You have a lot of nerve, coming into my house and bossing me around like you own the place,” she says. “I was trying to do you a favour, but I don’t take kindly to ingrates.” All the warmth dissolves from her voice. How could I have been so stupid as to trust her?

“You’ve ruined lives. You let this city burn.” My voice echoes off the high ceilings. “You killed my sister! How can you live with yourself?”

Helen pushes through the crowd, reaching for me. “June, calm down. We can fix this. It’s going to be okay,” she says,

I push Helen’s hand away—she staggers back, as if she’s been struck. “I trusted you…” I say to Evelyn. “I thought you were going to be like family. And now I can’t go home. You have taken something from me that I can never replace.”

Helen steps away, as if she’s been struck.

I don’t want to explain myself, not to her, and not to any of these people. I run out to the lawn. The stars are masked by smoke. I can feel it sticking to the back of my throat. I sit down on the grass, strangely moist, as if freshly watered. The necklace feels too heavy. I fumble with the clasp, but I can’t get it off me.

I can walk through this world. But no matter how bad I want it, this will never be my home.

I stare down at Sylvia’s name on my phone. I try to call, but she won’t answer.

Helen shouts my name in the dark. I stare at the smoke on the horizon, creeping ever closer.

No matter where I run, I won’t evade it for long.