My chest felt heavy. My leg stung, but not as painfully as before. My throat felt like I’d swallowed sand laced with razor blades. I turned my head and noted a drip fed into my left arm. Swallowing, I turned to the other side. Karson was sitting beside me. Why would he be by my bed? Then it all came crashing back—orange flames... the heat and the smoke... Karson’s face...the feel of his chest pressing into my body and the whirl of moving at speeds not humanly possible.
I must’ve dreamed it; it was the only logical explanation. I closed my eyes, trying to clear my thoughts. It all felt so surreal—nothing made sense.
“Amelia.” Karson’s voice pulled my eyes open, soothing and very real.
“Where am I?” I tried to speak, but my throat was raw, and my voice was a strangled whisper muffled by whatever sat on my face.
My fingers fumbled to pull it off and realized it was an oxygen mask as he answered, “Hospital.”
“Water,” I croaked.
He took a plastic jug off the side table, poured a drink into a small cup, and handed it across. My hand trembled as I took it, and drank it all, the cool liquid soothing my sore throat. Karson took the empty cup and placed it back on the bedside table. I rested my head on the pillow and licked my dry, cracked lips.
“The Millers, the Torontos?” My voice was raspy and barely audible.
“They’re aright.” He reached across, placing the mask back over my mouth. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”
“You’re safe now, sweetheart.”The words echoed in my head alongside the feel of his lips on my forehead.
Exhaustion dragged my eyes shut. I was safe, they were safe. I fell back asleep.
When I woke again, it was to daylight. Blinking through stinging eyes, the world drew back into focus. Bright rays of light burst through the window, falling neatly on the crisp white covers of my bed. A nurse stood over me, the pressure of an arm cuff pumping on my arm.
My eyes went where Karson had sat last night, but the chair was empty. Disappointment grabbed a fistful of a weirdhollowness inside. I rolled my head to the left. A tube slithered from my arm, attached to a bag of clear liquid, and a machine recording my stats sat to the side. My leg felt like someone had taken a knife and flayed my skin off, and my fingers stung. I lifted my hand up—it was bandaged like a boxing glove.
“Amy, thank god.” Georgie’s face shot out from nowhere, hovering in front of mine. Mascara bled under her eyes. She was wearing a tracksuit and her hair was disheveled. She stroked my brow.
I pulled the mask from my face. “The fire,” I squeaked out.
She nodded and looked like she was going to cry. “You’re okay.” She poured a glass of water without me asking, and I drank it and handed the cup back.
“Karson?”
“He left when we got here. BJ and Jodie just left—I said I’d call when you woke.”
“He saved me.”
“Who?”
“Karson,” I whispered. “He saved me.”
She shook her head. “No, you managed to run out. Ambulance officers found you by the side of the road.”
Confused, I stared at her. I didn’t run out; I could barely crawl, let alone run.The deafening roar of the fire, the whip of the wind in our faces.The whole forest was engulfed, from my cabin to the Toronto’s place.
“The Millers, Torontos?” I needed confirmation. “They got out?”
A pause, and her eyes welled. She took a deep breath. “We?—”
“Good morning, can you tell me your name?” A middle-aged doctor with sandy hair strode in, cutting off her response. He had a clipboard in one hand. Dark rings circled his eyes. He looked tired, but his face was pleasant.
“Amy,” I said.
He nodded. “Do you know where you are?”
“Hospital.”
“Good girl, I’m Doctor Page. Your throat is sore from the smoke you inhaled. Thankfully your lungs were not burned, but you have a bad burn on your leg.”
