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“I will.”

The paramedics began moving Granny toward the ambulance.

I walked beside the stretcher until we reached the curb, keeping one hand wrapped around Granny’s fingers.

“I’m coming,” I told her.

Her eyes softened above the mask. “I know, baby.”

I squeezed her hand once before letting go.

Willow took Kaidence by the hand and started toward her car, but he twisted around to face me.

“Mommy!”

“I’m right here.”

“You coming?”

“I’m coming, baby.”

He nodded like he needed to hear it one more time before he could leave.

I watched Willow help him into the back seat and buckle him in, then hurried around to the driver’s side. A moment later, the ambulance doors closed and the engine started.

I stood on the sidewalk in my pajamas and slippers, smoke still hanging in the cold night air, and watched both vehicles pull away. Then I turned back toward the house.

The firefighters moved fast, attacking the source before the fire could swallow the entire structure.

That was when the adrenaline finally cracked enough for fear to get through.

Five days.

I had been back home for five days, and somehow, the city had already managed to set our damn house on fire.

Within forty-five minutes, the worst of the fire had been knocked down. The firefighters were beginning to roll sections of hose back toward the trucks. But standing on the sidewalk in front of the house, I could already tell that getting the flames under control and saving the house were two very different things.

Once the fire was under control, I stayed near the front walkway while the crews continued moving in and out of the house. I wanted to go inside badly enough that I actually stepped toward the porch once, but one of the firefighters stopped me before I reached the door.

“Not yet, ma’am. It’s not safe.”

From where I stood, I could already see enough to make my stomach sink. Water streamed across the foyer floor, black soot stained the walls farther inside, and the smell of wet ash, burned plastic, and smoke poured through the open doorway every time somebody came out.

The fire captain eventually came over to talk to me.

I stood there, listening while he explained remediation companies, electrical inspections, insurance, and a dozen other things my brain knew I would have to deal with eventually.

According to him, the laundry room had taken the worst of it. The walls had burned down to blackened studs in places, the appliances were badly damaged, and the fire had spread into the rear corner of the kitchen before they contained it. Several cabinets were ruined, part of the ceiling had been compromised, and the electrical panel was fried.

I didn’t need to see every room for myself to understand what he was telling me.

The house was still standing, but we couldn’t stay there… at least not for a while.

Mrs. Henderson was still standing nearby in her nightgown with a coat thrown over it, refusing to go back across the street until she knew I was alright. When the firefighter finally walked away, she came over and rested a hand against my arm.

“Baby, I know it don’t feel like it right now, but it could’ve been worse.”

I knew what she meant.