Sloane scrunches her nose. “I don’t know about this.”
“Know about what?” Jasper asks, looking between us all, concern twisting his small face.
“Your sister is going to burn the place to the ground,” Sloane says. “And us with it.”
I ignore that comment. To Finn and Sloane, I say, “I need youto get Cecily. Find something to tie her wrists with. I’m sure Holden has zip ties or something. I want her on her feet and out here when I get back.”
“Jo, you can’t go,” Jasper pleads. I kneel in front of him.
“I’ll be right back. And before you know it, we’ll be back with Mom and Margot and Dad and Paige. I know you want to go home. I think this is the only way to do that. But I need you to stay with Sloane and Aisha. Can you do that? Can you do everything they tell you?”
He looks like he wants to argue, but in the end he nods. I stand, bending down to kiss the crown of his head.
“He can do it,” Finn says. His voice is gentle as he adds, “He’s a Griffin.”
Jasper puffs out his chest.
“And Griffins are badass,” Finn says.
“Yeah. Badass,” Jasper mirrors.
I neglect to correct him for the curse word. If I can get him out of here, he can say all the bad words he wants. He’ll be alive to say them.
“I want you to hold Sloane and Aisha’s hands,” I say. “Hold on and don’t let go.”
Jasper nods. And despite not having met any of this trio before waking up in a scary room hooked up to sensors and IVs, he understands that we’re all on the same sinking boat. Sees them as the allies they are.
“I really hope you’re right about this,” Finn says.
—
The room of boxes and files I stopped in earlier is full to the brim with cardboard, paper, and whatever medications are jammed inside the boxes. I have no way of knowing how flammable thedrugs are, if a single spark will kill my slow-burn plan by blowing us all up, but there’s no time to consider it.
I make my way to the desk in the far corner, covered in files, some with coffee stains and watermarks. I dig through the drawers, steadily losing hope until I come across a small matchbook with four matches remaining.
One last wave of protest courses through me. But then an image of Harper, her bloody hand dangling through the shattered car window, presses into my skull. I couldn’t save her. I can do this, though. I can save Jasper and the others.
I start with the files on the desk. I spark one of the matches and light up as many pieces of paper as I can before the match dies. The second I set to one of the cardboard boxes. The box goes up quickly, crackling, already spilling smoke into the air. I press my hand over my nose and mouth and tuck the matches away, slipping out of the room and leaving the door open. I enter the room we found the clothes in next. Two matches remain, and I use them on opposite sides of the room. This room is smaller, and by the time I get the finicky second pile of clothes to light, the space smells like a campfire.
When I step back into the main hall, the smoke is billowing from the file room. The glass inside the medication boxes pops, joining the crackling flames. But there is no immediate explosion, so I take it as a victory.
Near the staircase, Jasper, Finn, Aisha, and Sloane have damp T-shirts wrapped around their mouths and noses. Cecily stands with her hands zip-tied in front of her. She isn’t wearing a cloth over her mouth.
“This is foolish,” she says as soon as I join them. I ignore her, taking the outstretched wet T-shirt from Finn and tying it over my face. “You’re all going to die.”
“And we’re taking you with us, Cece,” Finn says. He has a tight grip on her arm, and Sloane has an even tighter one on Finn’s other side to keep him steady. Without the code to the door, though, there’s nowhere for Cecily to run.
She looks at me, then back at Finn. Shakes her head.
A large crack from one of the rooms—more glass—makes her flinch. Smoke billows out both open doors, slowly creeping toward us. Sloane nudges Aisha and Jasper, and the trio lower themselves to a crouch.
“Please. Just—just let me go. There are fire extinguishers—” Cecily starts, pulling at Finn’s grip on her, but he holds firm.
“Yeah, no, that’s not happening,” he says. “There’s one way to stop this, and you know what it is.”
Cecily shakes her head again. Tears glitter in her eyes. “Please. I don’t want to die,” she says.
Guilt and fear prickle along my skin. Despite the increasingly warm hall, a shiver runs through me. I may have damned us all to a horrible death.
