There was no moisture in my throat, no energy left to move my tongue. She couldn’t hear me, not over the thunder and the fire and … it didn’t matter. Because she wasn’t here – she wasn’t outside. She wasn’t here!
I turned around. The doorway was half-enveloped by flames but I could see a way into the smoke. I was small enough to clear it. I charged, throwing myself into the amber hole and spreadeagling myself across the ground.
Behind me, Luca was screaming my name.
I set my sights on the island in the centre. Hungry flames were choking down its wooden base. There was a narrow passageway but the unlit space was dwindling rapidly. I started crawling towards the island, circling the pocket of fire. Already, my cheeks were scalded red-raw and my eyelids were beginning to droop. My head felt heavy, rolling forwards from my neck. But I could swear I heard a voice, a quiet tinkling amidst the inferno. Was she calling my name?
I forced myself further into the heat. Was that her shoe, right there, through the flames? Had she been wearing sneakers? I forced my eyes open, searching for the mirage. I was beaten back again, the heat pouring over me like boiling water. The fire was at my elbows, stabbing me.
I reached the other side of the island. Someone was definitely calling my name. Was it her? Was I close? I could only see the floor, tiles mussed with smudges of black. The countertops had collapsed on themselves, shooting splinters of wood into the centre of the kitchen. Knives and forks nipped and jabbed at me as I crawled over them. Trickles of blood trailed down my arms and sizzled in the heat.
There. That foot again. I was trapped behind the flames, and the spark of white rubber was unmoving.
‘Mom,’ I called out, but there was nothing but smoke spluttering out of me. The room was pressing down on me, pinning me to the floor.
Somewhere over my shoulder, someone was yelling at me. It wasn’t her. It was harder, deeper, further away. I was fixating on the shoe, trying to keep my eyes open. It was impossible. Everything was amber. Searing, white-hot, burning, shrieking amber. I was choking, but if I could just get to that shoe, I could grab her leg. I could wake her up. She would come back to me. We would crawl out of here together.
The shouting soared above the fire. There was so much screaming and it was closer now. Was it coming from me? From her? I could barely tell.
Where did the shoe go?
There!
I lunged but the fire soared, whipping at me, and I collapsed behind the flames. My lungs filled with smoke and I gasped, my body lurching for fresh air. There was none. I pulled my head up, searching, but it was too heavy. It flopped back down.
Her foot had disappeared behind streams of red and orange. Had it been a foot at all?
Something cracked and I was forced down, my cheeks smashing against the floor. I had lost direction. It hurt to suck in what little air was left. The flames were surrounding me in a circle. Which way was out? I scrabbled across the tiles, shrinking tight into a ball. I could feel the flames licking at my bare skin.
‘Mom!’
Nothing came out.
‘Someone help us!’
Clammy hands grabbed my ankles, pulling me backwards. Was she behind me? I couldn’t remember what direction she was in. Voices surged around me. There was yelling, arguing. The hands didn’t belong to her – these hands were coarse, their grip tight against my seething skin.
I clawed forward again, dropping my body against the floor. The hands were pulling me back. They moved to my waist and then my shoulders. I coasted backwards, my body scraping off the tiles.
‘No,’ I gasped. ‘No. No.’
A sliver of warm air rushed into my lungs, but everything was still glowing. The ground was cool against my cheek. My eyelids drooped. I would rest here, just for a moment. I would let sleep take me from this nightmare. I was in a dream, and the dream was scalding me alive.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
SIRENS
Wind beat down on my weathered body. I lurched and something rolled down my chin. The air was too cold to choke in. My head felt like it was splitting in two. Aches pulsed through my limbs, sticking me to the ground.
Think. Concentrate. I tried to switch my brain back on.
The ground was rough beneath my legs. The pressure was gone from my chest. The back of my head was scratching against something. I was on my back. Yes.
The lights behind my eyes were still blazing, but the roaring was somewhere behind me. The heat was close, but not like it was before. Wind was pushing hair across my face. It stuck to my lips. Drops of water pricked my cheeks. It was raining. I was outside. Yes. There was a chorus of new sounds soaring into the night.
Sirens. I tried to imagine what a siren was. Ambulances. Fire trucks. Police cars. We were safe.
‘Sophie!’ That familiar voice, silky like honey. Nic. Yes, that’s right. Nic is here.
There was more noise – clanging, shouting. There were discussions – serious, angry discussions. A female voice. ‘Sophie? Sophie, can you hear me?’
My mother?