Once they were out, it was clear that Riya’s house was on fire as well. He stared at her door, willing her to come out. When she finally emerged with Samir behind her, his mother called them over. Riya had run over to them. He met Riya’s eyes for a moment, both of them relieved to see each other.
But suddenly, Samir had turned around and run back into the house.
“Samir! No! Come back!” Sarika had shouted.
“Samir!” Riya echoed, attempting to follow him. But Dhillon’s mother held her firm.
“Riya! You have to stay here. It’s too dangerous,” Dhillon insisted, just as her parents drove up. “Your parents are here.” He nodded behind her.
Dhillon turned his attention back to his house. Where was his dad? And Lucky? “Where’s Papa?”
Without waiting for an answer, he started toward the house. The fire engines were in the driveway.
“Papa! Lucky! Where are you?” He ran closer as his mother screamed for him to stay put. But he had to get to his father. “Papa! Lucky! Come out!” He started to get closer: he had to go in, get his father.
A firm hand on his shoulder stopped him. Dhillon looked up into the face of a firefighter. “Kid, you gotta let us work.”
“My dad and my dog,” he tried to explain, “they’re still inside.”
The firefighter nodded and relayed the information into his walkie-talkie. “We’ll get them.” A couple of firefighters entered the burning house. Dhillon was in awe of their bravery. Sure enough, a few minutes or an eternity later, one of the firefighters emerged, carrying Lucky.
Dhillon ran to Lucky, but the firefighter ran past Dhillon to the ambulance. Lucky’s whines called to him, and he followed his companion.
“Stay back, son. Let us work,” the paramedic had said.
Dhillon had stood there, powerless to help Lucky, powerless to get his father. He willed the other firefighter to come out with his dad. He stood there while water doused the flames of both houses. He stood there while firefighters called out to each other, chaos erupting around him.
No one came out.
Dhillon followed Riya to the waiting room at Hopkins where he assumed his mother would be. Riya had simply told him that Hetal was burned but had not uttered a word after that. He was too shocked to push it. Too angry to speak. Riya had saved his life, but Hetal was injured because of her. Besides, if Riya had decided not to talk, she wouldn’t.
When they approached the waiting room, they found his mother pacing. Ryan sat in a chair, watching her. She looked up when the door opened.
“Dhillon.” She ran over and put her hands on his face, turning him this way and that, checking her son to see what damage had come to him. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Before he could answer, she gave Riya the same treatment, adding a hug. “They said you pulled him out.” She kissed Riya’s ash-strewn face. “Thank you.”
“We’re fine, Mom,” Dhillon rumbled. He looked at Riya. She met his eyes and looked away. Silence clanged in the waiting room.
Ryan finally spoke into the silence. “Hetal has second-and third-degree burns. Her left arm and thigh.”
Dhillon stared at his friend for a moment as he processed this information. “How is she?”
“She’s in surgery. They need to do grafts.” His mother answered, clearly trying to maintain some professional distance, but failing.
“Ryan?” Dhillon looked to his best friend. As a trauma resident, maybe Ryan would have some answers.
“She’ll be in the hospital for a few weeks. They’ll do the grafts, make sure she’s healing. There will probably be some physical therapy. It’ll take some time, but she’ll be fine,” Ryan answered.
Dhillon nodded. She had to be. The waiting-room door opened, and a doctor in blue scrubs walked in, carrying two cups of coffee. It was Dr. Shah. Concern colored his face as he looked at Sarika.
Dhillon felt a small amount of relief that Dr. Shah could provide some comfort to his mother.
“Sarika,” said Dr. Shah, handing her one of the coffees. “Hello, Dhillon. How are you? Can I get you anything?” He held out the other coffee to Dhillon.
Dhillon shook his head. “Thanks. I’m okay.”
“Rohun.” His mother took the coffee. “What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.”
