“Jeremy!”
A pungent, bitter scent engulfed me, seeped into my pores. My eyes watered. Inhaling ripped the skin on the scorched inside of my nose. A whooshing filled my ears, muting every other sound.
Dark orange flames tore at the café’s roof and licked up the back side of the building. Neighbors gathered. People shouted.
Two couples, probably tourists, stood across the street, holding up their phones and filming the worst moment of my life as if it were entertainment. Two men came out of the building a few doors down and called to each other about something. I couldn’t decipher the words. A crackling sound punctuated by a series of pops had everyone ducking and covering their ears.
How long had this been burning? How had I not smelled it sooner?
Where was Jeremy?
I rushed in closer, trying to get to that side door. Someone grabbed me. Their empty words of reassurance did nothing to stop the energy revving inside me. I would burst through that wall to get to Jeremy if I had to.
Sirens wailed in the distance. A fire truck careened down the street and slammed to a stop. The people watching the disaster turned, made room.
I couldn’t wait for reinforcements. I slipped out of the punishing grip on my arm and ran into a wall of pulsing heat. I bent over, stepped back, tried to think of the ways in. Front door. Side door. The wall of windows facing the street.
The endless crackling and banging begged for attention. The noise gathered and rose in a thunderous crescendo until the need to curl into a ball swamped me. But not until I had Jeremy in my arms.
More people gathered. Most from houses and apartments nearby. Some I knew. Others I didn’t. They all surrounded me, trying to protect me, but they didn’t understand. I’d give every drop of blood, forfeit my safety and my life, to free my son.
Pivoting around bodies and blocking out the shouts to stop,I moved toward the building. With my head down and my arm covering my face, I buried my mouth in my sleeve. Took short breaths, hoping the cloth would block the worst and buy me enough time before the air choked out.
Firefighters filled the sidewalk. First responders dragged fire hoses and set up barriers. Police cars pulled up to the frenetic scene.
My body shook so hard I could feel my teeth grind together.
The professionals, suited-up and unidentifiable in their gear, pushed forward. But the fire fought back. It raged and hissed. Flames filled spaces that were open seconds ago, blocking access.
Finally, a few firefighters ventured in. Someone in charge tried to talk to me but his words didn’t penetrate my increasing panic. I stood frozen to the loose gravel of the private driveway.
The crashing of glass broke through my daze. Desperate whispers flew from onlooker to onlooker.
Then I saw the axe. Heard the words. The worst words.
“We have a body.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Hanna
A cry tore out of me, stealing every ounce of energy from my body as it rumbled its way up and out. Feral. Raw.
Not Jeremy.
No. I refused to listen. As people shifted and mumbled, I plowed ahead. The fire mimicked my movements. Continued its march. Danced over the café roof, careening dangerously close to the garage and the safety of my home while stray embers jumped through the darkness to the flower shop next door.
Not a body. My mind wouldn’t accept the word. My gaze stayed locked on the opening, waiting for the firefighters to drag Jeremy out.
Harsh coughs doubled me over. My knees shook. Through the haze I could see the broken glass from the side door window panels. Watch the smoke slip out in floating strips.
Phantom sounds of Jeremy’s panicked screaming filled my head. Him begging for help. For relief.
Movement. Did I see someone thrashing around inside? I blinked and strained but my eyes refused to focus.
One more step. One inch closer to the door. It was as if the flames parted, ready to welcome me in. For a flash the smoke cleared, and I saw... legs. On the ground. Then the curtain of fire closed in again. The flames roared back to life.
“Jeremy!” I plunged forward, ready to dive in.
