Standing just beyond the crowd of neighbors and first-responders, half-shadowed by the flashing red strobes.
Tall. Still.
His eyes fixed right on me.
That man. The one that was on the fire escape.
He’s the one I’ve seen at the bakery over and over again. The black shirt he’s wearing sticks to him like a second skin—but the words are clear now:Cross & Sons, stamped above a faded motorcycle logo.
My heart stops.
He doesn’t blink. He doesn’t move.
Just stares.
Straight at me.
Chapter Fifteen
MARLOWE
The oxygen mask itches against my face, but I don’t have the strength to remove it. My lungs still burn. Every breath feels too shallow, like there’s not enough air, even though I know pure oxygen is getting pumped into me. My hands won’t stop shaking. I try to press them to my stomach, to hold them still, but they won’t stop moving.
There’s shouting outside as the ambulance doors close and the engine rumbles beneath us. I turn my head. Nathan’s sitting across from me. Why is he with me? He’s watching me, but not saying anything. Why is he here? I don’t know how he got in here.
I close my eyes. Open them again. Try to remember how we got out. The apartment. The smoke. The man on the fire escape. The bakery.
My throat tightens. My bakery is gone.Gone. All of it. Every corner I painted. Every chair I picked out. The books on the back shelf my customers can take or leave. The tiny bell above the door.
I blink again, but the tears sting too much. Neve. She was coughing hard. She’s in another ambulance, right? I haven’t seen her. They pulled us apart.
My body feels heavy and hollow at the same time. I want to scream. I want to sleep. I want to go back five hours and lock the door and pretend none of this ever started.
Nathan shifts like he wants to say something, but I look away. I can’t take whatever it is. Not right now. My fingers curl into the edge of the gurney. The metal is cold, solid. The only thing that feels real. Everything else is noise. Sirens. Voices. Smoke still clinging to my clothes and hair.
And somewhere in the back of my mind, a face I couldn’t see clearly. And a black shirt with words I’m not ready to say out loud. Who was that man?
I blink and fluorescent lights blur above me as they push my stretcher through sliding doors. They’re too bright. Too white. The ceiling keeps shifting, breaking apart, tilting. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, but that just makes everything worse. I feel the motion, the speed, the bump of wheels against the uneven tiles of floor. My body jolts with every turn, every stop. The air smells wrong. Clean and chemical and nothing like cinnamon or espresso. Nothing like my apartment. My bakery.
I can still smell fire. It's soaked into my skin. I can taste it on the back of my tongue. My throat tightens and I turn my face to the side, gagging.
“We’ve got you,” someone says. A nurse or an EMT. I don’t know. I can’t keep track of the faces. They all blur together. Scrubs and gloves and clipped voices asking me questions I can’t answer.
Nathan’s voice cuts through it all. He’s still here. Still beside me. He rests his hand on my ankle. I pull my foot away. “Marlowe. You’re okay. You’re at the hospital.”
Am I? I don’t know what okay means anymore. My chest aches. Not just from the smoke. From something deeper. Heavier. Something collapsing inside me.
They lift me from the stretcher onto a hospital bed and hook me up to more wires, more machines. A monitor beeps next to my head. Sharp, steady, obnoxious. I try to ask about Neve, but my voice barely comes out.
“She’s okay,” Nathan says quickly, leaning in. “She’s in the next bed. They’re watching her oxygen levels, and she’s talking too.”
I nod—or try to.
But it doesn’t stop the pounding in my chest. It doesn’t stop my brain from spiraling. The man on the fire escape. Who was he? He’d been by the bakery. He ordered muffins. He stared at me. Why was he there tonight? Did he cause the fire? Or did he save me?
My eyes scan the corners of the room. Every open doorway. Every figure in motion. I can’t help it. My body is still on high alert. Everyone looks unfamiliar. Everyone feels like a threat. My ears are ringing, and the sound of shoes squeaking down the hall makes me flinch.
Nathan is still here. I feel his stare, his attention fixed on me. I look away. I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel about him right now. He’s not the man I want next to me. I stare up at the ceiling. It doesn’t stop moving.
