The Bomb and the Weight of My Choice

...

I donned my blast suit and rushed into the building.

There were no blueprints or plans. I just followed my past life's memories to bypass Rita's faulty wiring, ignore the blinking red traps, and locate the core server with precision.

Liquid nitrogen hissed, white mist filling the air. The piercing alarm stopped, indicating that the secondary detonation had been neutralized.

I removed my helmet, sweat and fog blurring my vision. Exhausted, I slumped against the wall, nearly fainting.

Outside, the crowd cheered in relief. My colleagues rushed to support me, their voices thick with gratitude.

"Mary, you're incredible!"

"We knew you'd pull it off!"

I declined their celebratory invites, eager to go home and rest.

As I reached for my car, a sharp pain hit my neck. A hand clamped over my mouth, dragging me backward. My struggles were futile as I was shoved into a dark storage room.

The door slammed shut and locked.

Tied to a cold chair, I couldn't move. A flickering bulb revealed a familiar silhouette.

Patrick crouched before me, brushing my hair with unsettling tenderness. "Don't struggle, sweetheart. The ropes will hurt you."

His words slithered like a snake, making my skin crawl. His eyes gleamed with obsession. "You ruined Rita, you know that?"

His soft tone hit like a hammer. "The report lists her as the primary offender. Her career is over."

"She brought it on herself," I shot back.

He shook his head, sighing as if I were being unreasonable. "No, I can save her."

He got up and went to the corner to grab a steel pipe as thick as an arm. "If you can't disarm bombs anymore, they'll have to reinstate her. Help her one last time. Don't be scared. I promise, we will make it up to you."

Dread surged from my feet to my skull as I watched him approach. "Are you crazy? My hands save lives, not paving the way for your protégé."

Guilt flickered in his eyes, but his grip on the pipe didn't waver. "I'll take care of you forever."

The pipe swung down with a whistle, shattering my right wrist. The pain drowned me like a tidal wave.

My vision darkened, and I nearly passed out. He dropped the pipe and knelt, wrapping my mangled hand in a towel with eerie care, as if handling a priceless artifact.

He leaned close, his hot breath assailing my neck. He whispered, "Stay here one night. Once the investigation is done, I'll get you out. Rita's reputation must stay spotless."

He got up and left without looking back. The light went out, plunging the room into darkness.

...

I woke to violent shaking, my wrist throbbing. I groaned, cold sweat soaking my back.

Patrick gripped my shoulders, his bloodshot eyes wild. "Mary! The server's cooling system failed!"