Hannah Harper stares at the wall of scorched evidence. Charred wood, melted accelerant bottles, a single unburnt matchbook with a red rose emblem. Her third fire this month. Same signature. Same rage.
"You spent fifteen years putting out fires, Hannah," she says to the empty pews. "I've spent five years starting them. We're not so different. You just never admitted you loved the heat."
Inside, the fire is beautiful. It knows her name. Hannah Harper ABLAZE -Split Scenes-
But in the blackened hills that night, some say they saw a figure walking into the wildlands — not running from the fire, but becoming it.
Hannah Harper is never seen again.
"That was protecting people."
Right: The roof begins to cave in. Hannah Harper — the one who exists, the one with the scar and the badge — lowers the gun. Walks forward into the heat. Through the doorway. Past her doppelgänger, who dissolves into embers as she passes. Hannah Harper stares at the wall of scorched evidence
FINAL CARD Two days later. Investigators find no body. Only a melted badge and a single unburnt matchbook with a red rose emblem. The arson stops. Forever.