The City That Never Stops Shining

Paris smelled like fresh bread and coffee, even at seven in the morning.

Felicia stood on the cobblestone sidewalk, helmet tucked under her arm, staring up at the Eiffel Tower rising against a cloudless blue sky. She had just finished a night shift at the fire station two streets over — her very first week in the city.

"You look like a tourist," said a voice beside her.

A girl about eight years old sat on a bench, eating a croissant. She had big brown eyes and flour on her nose.

"I might be," Felicia admitted, laughing. "Is it that obvious?"

The girl grinned. "You're staring at the Tower like it might run away."

The Croissant Girl's Secret

The girl's name was Mia.

"My grandma owns the bakery over there," Mia said, pointing to a little shop with blue shutters.

Felicia smiled. "That explains the flour."

Then every light on the Eiffel Tower went out at once. All of them. The whole tower went dark and quiet, even though the sun was still up. On top, a small drone zipped away fast, carrying something round and glowing.

"It took the flame!" Mia gasped. "The eternal flame — it lights all of Paris at night!"

Felicia was already running toward the Tower's entrance.