Sometime in the dead of night, the faint smell of smoke drifted into my half-conscious mind.
A familiar terror seized me instantly. My eyes flew open.
The room was already on fire. Thick smoke billowed across the ceiling, and the crackle of flames came from every direction.
"Leon?" I called out. No answer.
Then I heard it—Hayden's crying.
I threw myself into his room like a woman possessed. He was barely conscious, his small face blackened with soot, each breath shallower than the last.
I scooped him into my arms and ran.
The moment I reached the hallway, a wall of flame erupted in front of me.
I gathered every ounce of strength in my arms and pushed Hayden through the doorway, clear of the fire.
That was when I saw Leon on the other side of the hall, Pamela cradled in his arms, charging toward the exit.
My throat was raw, scorched by smoke. I forced out every last bit of air in my lungs. "Leon! Help—"
He didn't even slow down. Didn't turn his head. Just kept running with Pamela in his arms.
He never once looked my way.
My hand dropped to my side. Smoke stung my eyes until tears streamed down my cheeks, and my consciousness faded piece by piece.
"Gloria!"
Leon's voice. From somewhere far away.