I’ve lived with the stares, whispers, and hateful accusations of small-town gossips for years. Being the sister of the city pariah comes with penalties. However when the petty harassment turns darker, extra drastic measures are required. I simply didn’t count on these measures to incorporate my former highschool crush—the golden boy turned smoking scorching firefighter—providing safety… as my boyfriend. Are we simply pretending, or is that this changing into one thing actual? And may it survive the string of arsons that threaten us each?