This story is both an entry into the April 2023 “take your daughter to work day” challenge and a personal homage to a classic shared world from the archives of BCTS.

I could see the plume of smoke rising over the cornfields from several miles away. Not the thick, rolling smoke of a hungry blaze, but the puffs and wisps of a fire nearly burned out. Despite it being over a decade since I last fought a major fire, I still felt the same pulse of adrenaline and the bitter taste of fear and anticipation. As I approached the site along the narrow country road, I pulled over to let the coroner and a police cruiser pass in the other direction. If anything, that made the anticipation worse.

Ellen Carpenter woke first. She always did on a work day, and almost always on weekends, too. After enough time, some habits just stick with you. The pattern had become a routine - throw on a dressing gown, step into slippers and pad down the stairs to make a pot of tea and some breakfast for both of them, sit quietly listening to complaints about work colleagues she had never met, make a packed lunch and a flask of coffee, then a quick kiss, a “have a nice day”, and she was on her own again.

My name? How curious you are! You don't have long to live and instead of begging, fighting, or praying you ask me a question. I suppose I owe you that, at least. I so rarely get to tell my tale. You won't believe any of it, of course, but I swear on my baby daughter's memory that every word is true.