Trapped in a Fire, My Son and I Are Reborn

Chapter 1

**Prelude**

My son was trapped in a burning building, and even though my husband, the fire chief, was already there, I didn't call him for help. Instead, I grabbed a hose, hooked it up to a hydrant, and charged into the flames myself.

In my past life, I had to hurt myself just to make my husband—the fire chief—save our son first. But his "white moonlight"—the woman he'd always idealized and could never reach—and her daughter both fell to their deaths from the upper floors. He didn't bat an eye. A year later, on our anniversary, he tied me and our son up, drenched the house in gasoline, and set us on fire.

Then I woke up—back to the day of the fire. This time, my son wasn't crying for his dad to save him. He was saving himself. Turns out, my son had been reborn with me.

**Prelude ends**

The shrill wail of the fire truck shattered the morning stillness. Just like before, I was the first to reach the kindergarten.

"What the hell are you doing with that fire hydrant? You can't just take matters into your own hands!"

It was Principal Lee, blocking my way. In my past life, my poor choices had led to both my son's and my death. But not this time. I wasn't calling my husband, the fire chief, for help. I was going to fight the fire myself. Armed with my firefighting license, I knew I could handle it. But I never expected Principal Lee to rush over and stop me when she saw what I was about to do.

Principal Lee had worked here for decades. Her daughter, Emily, was a teacher at the school—and my son's homeroom teacher. She was the one who had called me about the fire. This time, I'd arrived faster than I had in my previous life, and sure enough, the fire had started in my son's classroom. The entire class was still trapped inside.

I pleaded, panic rising in my chest. "Principal Lee, the fire in the big class is bad! If they don't get out now, they'll suffocate!"

Principal Lee calmly held my arm and said, "Don't make it sound worse than it is. It's just a small fire. The teachers are inside with the kids. They're trained professionals. They'll take care of it."

As I argued with her, a group of teachers gathered around, starting to point fingers.

"This mom, even if you're worried, we're all anxious here, okay?"

"The fire department's here. Are you really more qualified than them?"

Yes, the fire brigade had arrived, and my son's biological father was there too—as the fire chief.

Jason Carter, just like in my past life, was the first to arrive on the scene, leading his team with impressive speed and efficiency. The fire was on the third floor, but he was focusing on the fourth floor first, where there were no flames. That's where Emily and her daughter were waiting in the art room, a place usually left untouched.

I looked up at the third-floor windows and saw him—my son, in his camo uniform, standing on the corridor windowsill. He'd escaped the burning classroom but was now trapped in the hallway. The flames blocked the stairs. They couldn't move forward, and they couldn't go back!

My hands were shaking as I fought harder to open the hydrant. I could feel my heart racing.

"Please, look! They've already left the classroom! They're surrounded by flames, and the smoke will kill them!"

"I have to put out the fire on the stairs and get them out now!"

Principal Lee, still holding me back, looked up with calm eyes and said, "There are taps in the hallways. They'll cover their noses and wait for help. The stairs are on fire. Do you want them to try to escape through there? Do you think they won't get burned?"

"Don't you see? The firefighters are already here, but they're planning to rescue them through the windows in the corridor!"

But the firefighters weren't heading to the third floor! As I watched the flames rise, I felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest.

Then, I heard my son's voice calling from above, "Mom! Help us!" This time, he was calling for me, not his dad. I looked up and saw him tossing things out the window, trying to grab attention. This was exactly what I'd taught him to do after the fire.

That's when it hit me—my son had come back with me!

In my previous life, when I rushed to the kindergarten after Emily's call, the fire department had already set up a ladder outside. They had no intention of rescuing from the third floor, so I blocked their path, even throwing myself in front of them, desperate to force them to act. The firefighters argued with Andrew Carter, who finally agreed to go up to the third floor.

By the time the children were rescued, the kitchen on the third floor exploded. In seconds, the entire floor was engulfed in flames. The kids barely escaped, but Emily and her daughter, still sitting on the windowsill, were knocked off by the explosion and fell to their deaths.

In my previous life, there had been less than twenty minutes before that explosion. I couldn't waste any more time. I had to get my son out—and now.