At 34 weeks pregnant, I was finally asleep after a long day when I heard my husband Daniel shouting:
“Mary, wake up! Fire! Fire!”My heart stopped. I shot out of bed, clutching my belly and racing downstairs, terrified. But there was no fire.Just Daniel and his friends, laughing.It was a prank.
Daniel knew my past. When I was 17, my family home burned down.We barely escaped, and we lost everything — including our beloved dog. The trauma still follows me. I obsessively check outlets, the stove, the candles — anything that could spark a flame.
