Every time I think of you

I feel shot right through with a bolt of blue

It's no problem of mine

But it's a problem I find

Living a life that I can't leave behind

- "Bizarre Love Triangle" by New Order

The dream was always the same.

Tendrils of flame curling around the roof like tiny, greedy hands. Black smoke, heavy with the acrid smell of burning rubber, pouring out of the windows and the cracks around the garage door. The sound of popping and whirring and small explosions as a box of leftover fireworks ignited, a single Roman candle escaping through a broken window and bursting in the sky overhead, sending out brilliant blue sparks as Liv watched, helpless.

When Liv woke, covered in sweat, she could taste the orange she had been eating when she first saw the smoke. She could feel the sticky juice on her hands and chin, the dirt under her bare feet as she ran out of the kitchen and into the backyard.

She could still hear her mother's screams.