Cole reaches me first. "I've got you. We're getting you out."
I'm coughing too hard to respond. Tommy coughs against my shoulder, his small body shaking.
"I've got him." Theo appears beside Cole and reaches for Tommy. "You're okay, buddy. We're getting you out of here."
Tommy's eyes are huge and terrified as Theo lifts him from my arms.
"I need to take him," Theo says, securing Tommy against his chest.
Every instinct screams at me not to let go, but Tommy needs to get out. I release him into Theo's arms.
Cole scoops me up. I wrap my arms around his neck, still coughing.
"Mama!" Tommy cries out from Theo's arms as they move toward the stairs.
"Right behind you, baby!"
Cole’s moving fast, taking the stairs two at a time. I wrap my arms around his neck and let myself relax against his chest. He’s solid and calm and everything I need right now when my whole world is literally burning down.
The heat follows us down. Smoke everywhere. But then we’re outside and cool air hits my face, and I suck in gasping breaths that taste like freedom and lake water.
Cole sets me down on the sidewalk. My legs shake, but I hold.
Fire trucks surround the building, hoses spraying water at flames that shoot through the roof. The café is engulfed—orange and red against the darkening sky. Everything I’ve worked for these past three months is just gone. The building groans, and something inside crashes. Firefighters shout commands. The water pressure hisses and steams where it hits the hottest spots.
Theo jogs over with Tommy. My son is wrapped in a blanket, face smudged with soot, but he’s breathing. He’s okay.
I drop to my knees, and he crashes into me, all warm weight and trembling limbs.
“We made it.” I hold him so tight he squeaks. “We’re okay. We’re okay.”
“That was scary, Mama.”
“Yeah, baby. It really was.”
A crowd has gathered on the sidewalk. Phones are up, pointed at us. At the fire. At Cole and Theo in their gear. Someone’s filming. Someone’s probably already posting this online. Great. Nothing says “getting your life together” like going viral as a disaster victim.
I look up at Cole. He’s pulled his helmet off, dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. He looks exhausted.
“Thank you.” My voice cracks. “Both of you.”
“That’s the job.” But Cole’s eyes are soft when he looks at Tommy. “You did well, little man. Brave kid.”
Tommy beams despite the trauma. “Can I ride in the fire truck?”
“Tommy!”
“What? It’s right there.”
Theo crouches down, grinning. “Maybe next time. When the building’s not actively on fire.”
More emergency vehicles pull up. Paramedics swarm us with oxygen masks and blood pressure cuffs. Tommy thinks the oxygen mask is hilarious and makes Darth Vader breathing sounds until I threaten to take away his video games.
Dorothy stands at the front of the crowd, both hands pressed to her mouth. When she sees me looking, she rushes over.
“Oh, Rachel! Oh, thank God!” She pulls me into a hug that smells like lavender and peppermint. “I saw the smoke from my apartment. I thought—” Her voice breaks. “I was just there. Just minutes ago.”
“We’re fine. We got out.” I squeeze her hand. “See? Not even singed.”
