Emma shook her head hard. “No! I’m not leaving you!”

I forced myself not to cry.

“You’re going to be brave for ten seconds,” I told her. “Then you’re going to scream for help louder than you ever have.”

I wrapped her arms in my coat to shield her from the broken glass, lifted her to the window, and pushed. She cried out as she squeezed through, but then she was outside, dropping onto the narrow strip of grass between the townhouse and the neighbor’s fence.

“Run!” I shouted. “Go to Mrs. Carter’s house!”

Smoke filled the kitchen.

I heard Emma screaming outside. “Help! My mommy’s inside!”

I tried to climb after her, but the window was too tight. My ribs pressed painfully against the frame. I couldn’t fit.

The heat rose quickly. I dropped to the floor, crawled toward the front of the house, and found my purse near the dining chair. My emergency inhaler was inside. There was also a small key ring I had forgotten—one with the basement storage key from when Mom still owned the property.

There was an old basement exit.

Vanessa hadn’t grown up in that house. I had.

I crawled down the basement stairs through smoke so thick my eyes watered. The door at the bottom was blocked by stacked boxes. I kicked and shoved until one split open, spilling old Christmas decorations across the floor.

Behind it was the metal exit door.

The key turned.

Cold night air rushed in.

I stumbled into the alley just as firefighters pulled up in front. A neighbor caught me before I collapsed.

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