Emma had never thought of herself as careless.
She wasn't the kind of person who left candles burning when she went to bed. She didn't smoke. She checked the locks twice before falling asleep. She unplugged appliances when she remembered. She considered herself reasonably cautious, the kind of person who believed serious accidents happened because someone had done something obviously reckless.
And yet, every night, she did one thing without thinking about it.
She took her phone to bed.
It was there when she answered her last messages. It was there when she watched short videos with the sound turned low. It was there when she checked the weather for the next morning, scrolled through social media one final time, and promised herself she would put the phone down after "just one more."
Eventually, exhaustion always won.
Emma would place the phone beside her pillow, connect the charger, pull the blanket up to her shoulders, and close her eyes.
Sometimes the phone remained in her hand until she fell asleep.
Other nights, she placed it beneath the edge of the pillow because she didn't want the light from the screen disturbing her.
It was such an ordinary routine that she never considered it a safety issue.
Millions of people do something similar.
A phone beside the bed.
A charger plugged into the wall.
A warm blanket.
A tired person.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing that looks dangerous.
Until one night, something went terribly wrong.
The Night That Started Like Every Other Night
It was a warm July evening.
The kind of night when the air seemed to hold onto the heat even after the sun had disappeared.
Emma had spent the day moving from one responsibility to another. By the time she finally reached her bedroom, she was exhausted.
Her body wanted sleep.
Her mind wanted another few minutes of distraction.
She changed into comfortable clothes, climbed into bed, and reached for her phone.
There were messages waiting.
A few notifications.
A video someone had sent her.
A couple of things she told herself she needed to check before morning.
She smiled at something on the screen.
Then she yawned.
She plugged the phone into its charger.
The familiar little charging symbol appeared.
Everything looked normal.
Emma placed the phone beside her.
She pulled the blanket over herself.
The room became quiet.
For a few minutes, the only sounds were the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional vibration of her phone.
Then she fell asleep.
She would later remember almost nothing about the first part of that night.
What she remembered was the sound.
A tiny sound.
So small that, under normal circumstances, she might never have noticed it.
Pop.
Emma would later describe it as something between a spark and a tiny electrical snap.
Not an explosion.
Not a loud crash.
Just a strange little sound in the darkness.
Then came something else.
A smell.
At first, she didn't understand it.
It was faint.