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Granny barely made it to the railing before another violent cough doubled her over. I dropped beside her and rubbed firm circles between her shoulder blades.

“Slow breaths, Granny. Don’t try to gulp air. Nice and easy.”

“I’m trying, baby.”

Her fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist.

Willow had already made it to the edge of the yard, barefoot and wild-eyed, still clutching her phone.

“Where the hell are the firemen? We are actively burning over here!”

As if she had summoned them by yelling, sirens rose in the distance.

I turned toward the house.

An orange glow flickered behind the rear laundry-room window. It wasn’t a full inferno, but seeing fire inside the house where I had grown up made my stomach turn.

Kaidence pressed against my side and buried his fingers in my jacket. “Mommy, I’m scared.”

I pulled him closer. “I know, baby. But I got you. Keep your eyes on me, not the house.”

Across the street, the neighbor, Mrs. Henderson came hurrying toward us in a nightgown and slippers with a thick wool blanket clutched in both hands.

“Lord have mercy. Lizzy!”

She thrust the blanket at Willow, who immediately wrapped it around Granny’s shoulders.

Within minutes, the entire street was washed in red and white light. Fire trucks crowded the curb, engines rumbled, hoses hit the pavement, and firefighters moved around us with the kind of controlled urgency that made everything feel even more real.

One of the paramedics crouched beside Granny while I explained her condition.

“She has idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis. Her baseline room-air saturation is already low. She’s inhaled concentrated smoke for at least five to seven minutes. She needs high-flow oxygen via non-rebreather immediately and transport for lung assessment.”

The medic nodded, placing a tight mask over Granny’s face.

Granny looked at me through the clear plastic, her eyes exhausted, but she squeezed my hand once to tell me she was fighting.

The paramedic checked Granny’s oxygen level again, then exchanged a quick look with his partner. Whatever he saw on the monitor made his expression tighten.

“We need to get her moving,” he said, keeping his voice calm but firm. “Her oxygen is coming up some with the mask, but with her condition and the amount of smoke she inhaled, I don’t want her sitting out here any longer than necessary. She needs to be evaluated at the hospital.”

The nurse in me understood every word before he finished saying them.

Smoke inhalation could hit harder after the fact, and Granny already lived with lungs that had to work harder than most. Still, the granddaughter in me wanted to argue anyway, to keep her where I could see her and make sure she was breathing for myself.

Granny reached for my hand through the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. “I’m all right, baby.”

“No, you’re not.” My voice came out sharper than I meant it to, and I immediately softened it. “You’re going to the hospital.”

She gave me a tired little frown, but another cough cut off whatever argument she had been preparing.

The paramedic adjusted the oxygen mask and motioned for his partner to bring the stretcher closer. “We’re going to take good care of her.”

“I know.”

Still, that didn’t make watching them prepare to move her any easier.

Willow hovered beside me, barefoot, bonnet crooked, and still clutching her phone like she had forgotten it was in her hand. For once, she didn’t have anything funny to say.