Tommy and I wait while she sorts through the cart: picture books, chapter books, and a few board books for toddlers.
“Here we go!” She pulls out the dragon book. “This one?”
“That’s it!” Tommy grabs it and hugs it to his chest like it’s made of gold. “Thank you, Mrs. Chen!”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Just try to remember it next time, okay?” She winks at me. “He really loves that book.”
“He’s read it about a hundred times.” I ruffle Tommy’s hair. “What do we say?”
“Thank you!”
We’re walking back through the biography section when I smell it.
Smoke.
Not strong. Not obvious. Just a faint acrid smell that doesn’t belong.
I stop walking. Tommy bumps into my leg.
“Mama?”
“Hold on.” I look around. The smell’s getting stronger and coming from somewhere near the back of the building.
Then I see it. Gray wisps curling out from under a door marked Staff Only.
The fire alarm screams to life.
People appear from behind bookshelves—startled, confused, already moving toward the exits. Mrs. Chen is waving people toward the front entrance, her voice calm but urgent.
“Everyone outside, please. Orderly exit.”
My heart pounds. Not again. This can’t be happening again.
“Tommy.” I grab his hand tight. “We need to leave. Right now.”
“But—”
“Now.”
I pull him toward the front entrance. Other patrons are doing the same—orderly but fast, nobody panicking yet, but everyone aware that fire alarms mean danger.
The smoke’s thicker now. Visible. Spreading across the ceiling in dark clouds that make my chest tight and my eyes water.
We’re ten feet from the front door when someone rushes past me, shoulder catching mine hard enough that I stumble sideways.
My grip on Tommy’s hand loosens.
Then it’s gone.
“Tommy!” I spin around, searching the crowd.
“Mama!” His voice, small and scared, somewhere ahead, mixed with other voices and the shriek of the alarm.
I push forward, trying to see through the crowd moving toward the exit. My heart’s racing. My hands are shaking.
“Tommy! Where are you?”
“I’m here!”
