Ash reaches the first floor first, then Mark. I'm right behind them when I hear it—a sound like the world breaking in half. The entire second floor is coming down.
"Gunner!" Ash shouts from the bottom of the stairs.
I take the last four steps in one leap, but I can feel the building coming apart above me. Debris starts raining down, chunks of burning wood, pieces of plaster.
The front door is maybe twenty feet away, but it might as well be a mile. The ceiling above the lobby is sagging, and I can see cracks spreading across it like spider webs.
"Go!" I yell at Ash and Mark. "Get out!"
They don't argue. They know, just like I do, that in seconds this whole place is coming down. I watch them dive through the front door just as the ceiling gives way.
Time slows down the way it does in moments like this. I can see every piece of burning debris as it falls, can feel the superheated air rushing past me as the building collapses. I throw myself forward, reaching for the door, for safety, for life.
But I'm not fast enough.
The world comes crashing down around me in a symphony of breaking wood and roaring flames. Something heavy hits my back, driving me to the ground, and suddenly I'm pinned under what feels like half the building.
My mask has been knocked loose, and I'm breathing smoke and dust. I can't move my legs—something has them trapped—and I can feel heat all around me, getting closer.
This is it, I think. This is how it ends.
And in that moment, with flames dancing around the edges of my vision and the weight of the collapsed building pressing down on me, all I can think about is Amy and Rosa.
Amy, with her incredible strength and her fierce determination to protect her daughter. Amy, who looks at me like I'm the one person in the world who has her heart. Amy, who makes me want to be better than I ever thought I could be.
And Rosa, with her gap-toothed smile and her endless questions about everything. Rosa, who calls me Gunner like it'sthe most natural thing in the world. Rosa, who has somehow worked her way so deep into my heart that I can't imagine life without her infectious laughter.
I should have told them I love them. Should have said the words instead of assuming they knew. Should have been braver about my feelings than I am about running into burning buildings.
The heat is getting closer now. I can feel it on my face, and I know I don't have long. My air pack is somewhere behind me, crushed under the debris, and every breath I take tastes like smoke and regret.
I close my eyes and picture them, Amy and Rosa, standing outside the firehouse, watching me drive away. Amy's face, tight with fear but trying to be brave for Rosa's sake. Rosa's little hand in her mother's, her eyes wide with the kind of innocent concern that children have when they know something is wrong but don't understand what.
I love you both, I think, hoping somehow they'll know. I love you more than I ever thought possible. I love you enough to make this worth it.
The flames are closer now, and the smoke is getting thicker. My chest feels tight, and I'm getting dizzy. But instead of panic, I feel an odd sort of peace. If this is how it ends, at least I had them, even if it was only for a little while. At least I know what it feels like to be part of a family again.
At least I know what love is.
The darkness is creeping in around the edges of my vision, and the sound of the fire is getting farther away. I think about Amy's laugh, about Rosa's bedtime stories, about the way it feels to come home to something that matters.
And then, just as everything starts to fade to black, I hear voices. Shouting. Getting closer.
"Gunner! Gunner, where are you?"
Ash. And Mark. And Chief Williams. And what sounds like half the fire department.
I try to call out, but my voice is just a whisper. The smoke has stolen my strength, and the debris has me pinned too tight to move.
But they're coming. They're coming for me, the way we always come for each other. The way family does.
I hold onto that thought as the darkness closes in. Hold onto the sound of their voices, getting closer. Hold onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, this isn't how the story ends after all.
Maybe I'll get to tell Amy and Rosa I love them.
Maybe I'll get that chance.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
