Then she stopped and cocked her head. Was that . . . a thump? A voice? She glared at the ceiling. It sounded like footsteps were clambering down a set of stairs—only, which stairs? She stared at the foyer. No one. She didn’t know the layout of this rambling, old house that well, as her parents had bought it just before Courtney had made the switch and sent her away.
Then something caught her eye, and she whipped around. Through the gray, billowing smoke, five figures rushed toward the kitchen door and out to safety. Ali’s jaw dropped. Lavalike rage burbled in her chest.
The last girl stopped and peered through the haze. Her blue eyes widened. Her blond-red hair was a frizzy cloud around her face. Emily Fields. Emily rushed forward, her face a mix of rage and disbelief, and grabbed Ali by the shoulders. “How could you do this?” she demanded.
Ali wriggled out of Emily’s grip. “I already told you. You bitches ruined my life.”
Emily looked like she’d been slapped. “But . . . I loved you.”
Ali burst out laughing. “You are such a loser, Emily.”
Emily looked away, like she didn’t believe Ali could say such a thing. Ali wanted to shake her. Really? she considered saying. I don’t even know you. Get a freaking life.
But then a huge boom sounded, the pressure driving them apart. Ali’s feet lifted off the ground, and seconds later she landed on her shins so hard, she almost bit clean through her tongue.
When she opened her eyes again, the flames were dancing around her even more hungrily than before. She pushed up to her hands and knees and crawled toward the kitchen door, but Emily had gotten there first. She had one hand around the knob. The other hand held a wooden plank, big enough to bar the door from the outside, keeping Ali in.
Ali suddenly had the same trapped, teetering feeling she’d felt at the beginning of sixth grade, when her twin was home for the weekend. Her mother had come upstairs, dragged Ali from her bedroom, and said, Get out of your sister’s room, Courtney. It’s time to go.
Now Emily met Ali’s gaze. She stared at the plank in her hands as if she didn’t know how it had gotten there. Tears ran down her cheeks. But instead of shutting the door tight, instead of propping the plank diagonally across the outside of the door so Ali couldn’t escape, as Ali thought she would, Emily flung the plank onto the porch. It landed out of view with a heavy thunk. After one more ambiguous glance at Ali, she took off.
Leaving the door wide open behind her.
Ali limped toward the door, but as she tumbled over the threshold, there was another thunderous boom. What felt like two hot, heavy hands shoved her from behind, and she went flying again. A horrible stench of burning skin and hair singed her nostrils. Her leg exploded with pain. Her skin sizzled. She could hear herself screaming, but she couldn’t stop. But then, all of a sudden, it was like someone hit a switch: The pain just . . . vanished. She floated outside her body, up, up, up over the inferno and into the trees.
She could see everything. The parked car. Roofs of the nearby houses. And under a huge tree in the front yard, those stupid bitches. Spencer wailed. Aria doubled over with coughs. Hanna patted her hair like it was on fire. Melissa was a limp pile on the ground. And Emily looked worriedly at the door through which they’d all escaped, a concerned expression on her face, before covering her eyes with her hands.
Then another figure shot out from deep in the woods. Ali’s gaze moved to him, and her heart lifted. He ran right toward where she’d landed and dropped to his knees next to her body. “Ali,” he said, suddenly so close to her ear. “Ali. Wake up. You have to wake up.”
The invisible tether extending her into the sky snapped tight, and instantly she was back inside her body. The pain returned immediately. Her charred skin throbbed. Her leg pulsated with her heartbeat. But no matter how hard she screamed, she couldn’t make a sound.
“Please,” he begged, shaking her harder. “Please open your eyes.”
She tried as best she could, wanting to see the boy she’d loved for so long. She wanted to say his name, but her head felt too fuzzy, her throat too ruined. She managed to muster a moan.
“You’re going to be okay,” he said emphatically, as if he was trying to convince himself. “We just have to . . .” Then he gasped. Sirens sounded down the hill. “Shit,” he whispered.
Ali managed to open her eyes at the sound. “Shit,” she echoed weakly. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. They were supposed to be far away by now.
He tugged her arm. “We have to get out of here. Can you walk?”
“No.” It took all of Ali’s strength to whisper. She was in so much pain, she was afraid she might throw up.
“You have to.” He tried to help her up, but she just crumpled. “It’s not far.”
Ali looked at her useless legs. Even wiggling a toe hurt. “I can’t!”
His eyes met hers. “Everything is in place. You just have to take a couple of steps.”