Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
I hadn't wanted to dream, but I couldn't seem to stop. Everything was swirling around me, so many images, I felt like I was spinning. And it was hot. I could feel the heat on my body and my face. I wrestled with the covers, desperate for some cool air, but the air was thick and I couldn't breathe.
And suddenly, Paige was right in front of me, her hair wet, her face white, her hair covered in blood.
She was looking at me, telling me something. Get out…Go away…You brought this on...You caused this…
I tried to tell Paige that I never wanted her to die.
I never wanted anything like that to happen to her.
I was young, stupid, and jealous. I'd felt sick when I'd heard the news.
I'd been in shock. And maybe I had felt guilty, but I didn't know why.
I didn't know what she did that night, where she went, who she spoke to.
I yelled at her in my head. I didn't really know you, Paige. You had secrets, didn't you? Was it Hale? Did you go after him? Did he go after you? Why didn't you tell someone?
You don't understand anything…You never did, Tessa.
Did you tell Liam? Did you try to hook up with him to get back at me?
Liam was too good for you. He finally figured that out.
Maybe he was, but you had a boyfriend. What about Nate? Why would you want to cheat on someone who loved you so much?
You have too many questions, Tessa. And I can't give you any answers. Maybe you'll find them. Maybe you won't. Perhaps no one will ever know what happened to me.
Her words rocketed around in my head, bringing a wave of guilt, and more heat, more thick air. I felt like I was drowning in her tragedy. But it wasn't water that was crushing me; it was smoke.
Smoke!
I blinked my eyes open, wondering if I was still dreaming. And then the room came into hazy focus. The air was thick with smoke, and I finally woke all the way up.
I jumped out of bed, screaming, "Morgan!"
Running to the door, I remembered some long-ago lesson about putting your hand on the door first. It was warm, but it wasn't burning to the touch. I put my hand on the handle and turned the knob.
The smoke was thicker and heavier in the living room. I tried to turn on the lights, but they didn't work. The power seemed to be out, but there was enough light coming through the open curtains to at least let me see where I was going as I moved toward Morgan's room.
She came out just as I got to the door, looking dazed and confused. "Is there a fire?"
She'd no sooner asked the question when the smoke alarms started going off.
"It must be on the first floor," I said.
Morgan took out her phone and called 911. I grabbed my computer and shoved it into my tote bag, then ran back to my room to throw on sweats and sneakers. When I returned to the living room, Morgan had also put on clothes and was loading her computer, files, and notes into her backpack.
"Fire department is on the way," she said. "Someone else called it in."
"Good. Let's get out of here."
She put the backpack over her shoulders and then grabbed the bag with our bigger camera and recording equipment.
I wished we could pack up all our things, but there was no time. Hopefully, the fire would be contained to the first floor. We moved to the door, but as I opened it, I saw flames at the bottom of the stairwell, and I slammed it shut. "The fire is on the stairs."
I ran to the windows and started opening them, hoping it wasn't a mistake to allow more oxygen into the room, but I needed fresh air to dispel the smoke that was burning my throat, and we needed to find another way out. With the windows open, I could hear the distant sound of sirens.
"They're on their way," I said. "I just hope they're fast enough."
"If they're not, how are we going to get out of here?"
"We can go out this window if we have to. We're only on the second floor."
"It's still pretty high. You don't think we're going to have to jump, do you?" she asked, her lips tight, her face pale.
"I'm sure they'll have a ladder. We're going to be okay, Morgan."
"This isn't an accident, Tessa. This is about Paige and our investigation."
"Probably," I said, turning back to the window as the engines came screaming down the street. The retail businesses were all closed, as it was the middle of the night, so there was no one around that I could see, but at some point, someone had broken in and set fire to the building.
As firefighters hit the sidewalk, I called out, waving my hands, yelling that we were trapped, and the fire was in the stairwell.
One of the firefighters told us to stay where we were as other firefighters ran down the street toward the breezeway, and the remaining personnel started setting up hoses to put out the fire.
As I leaned out the window, I suddenly realized that there were flames in the downstairs windows of the yoga studio.
"Oh, God!" Morgan said, sticking her head out next to mine. "The fire isn't just on the stairs. It's swallowing up the first floor. How are they going to get to us?"
I didn't have to answer because the firefighters were now extending a ladder from the truck below, aiming it directly toward our window. We definitely weren't going down the stairs. When the ladder reached the window, a firefighter raced up and extended his hand to me. "Let's go."
"Morgan, you first," I said, stepping back.
"Tessa—"
"Go." This fire was because of me. I had to make sure she was safe.
Morgan climbed out the window with her backpack over her shoulders and the equipment bag in her hand, which the firefighter took from her as he helped her down the ladder.
I put the strap of my tote bag crossways over my chest and waited for him to come back.
He had just started up again when the door to the apartment blew violently open, sending chunks of wood and debris flying across the room, along with a cascading waterfall of fiery sparks.
I ducked down but felt hot, sharp bites on my head and back as the debris fell around me.
When I looked up, the fire was in the room, a raging monster of orange and yellow flames that completely paralyzed me.
The monster was coming straight for me. And I wasn't sure there was anything I could do to stop it.
The smoke was so thick now that I could barely see the window.
I started to cough, my throat beginning to burn, and then a firefighter came through the window and dragged me to my feet, pushing me through the falling sparks to the window.
He helped me over the sill and onto the ladder where another firefighter was waiting.
He helped me get down to the street where Morgan was waiting, and I fell into her arms as we hugged each other tightly.
For a second there, I hadn't been sure I'd make it out at all.
"Thank God," Morgan whispered as we pulled away to look at each other. "You're covered in ash, and there are splinters in your hair. Are you hurt?"
"I don't think so."
Two EMTs came over to check each one of us out. We were given water and some oxygen, which did help ease the burning in my throat. But I refused a trip to the hospital, and so did Morgan. With that, they headed back to the ambulance to wait until the fire was out and all the firefighters were safe.
"What happened?" Morgan asked. "I heard a big crash, and then you disappeared from sight." She picked several slivers of wood out of my hair and tossed them to the ground.
"The door blew open and the wood broke apart and rained down on me," I said, still shaken by how close I'd come to getting completely caught up in that fire. I turned to look at the building, realizing that the fire had now engulfed both stories.
Morgan followed my gaze as we kept our arms around each other's waists. "The whole building is going to be gone," she murmured. "Our clothes, our suitcases, all your aunt's furniture and belongings…"
"But we're alive, and we have the important things. We can replace the rest."
"I know. I'm grateful," she said. "I just can't believe what happened."
I couldn't believe it either. I'd thought we'd be safe in that apartment with the double-locked doors between us and the street, but someone had gotten into the building another way. And they'd used the opportunity to set a fire to try to trap us inside.
"We're getting close to the truth," I said. "No more warnings. They're not going to wait for us to leave. I should have expected something like this after what happened to Detective Cabot."
"Excuse me," a police officer said, coming over to us. "I understand you two were living in the upstairs apartment. Can I get your names? Can you tell me what happened?"
We gave our names and a very short statement about waking up to smoke and alarms. We'd called 911 and waited for help.
He asked a number of other questions that appeared to be related to whoever had broken into the building, but after repeating several times that we hadn't heard anything or seen anything, I said, "You should talk to Detective Barclay.
This fire could be related to a case he's working on.
He knows who we are and how we're involved. It's a long story."
He gave me a thoughtful look. "Got it. Do either of you need to go to the hospital?"
"We're fine," Morgan said.
As he left, I heard my name called and saw my aunt rushing down the street, a sweater over her leggings and T-shirt, her face terrified.
"You're both all right," she said with relief, throwing her arms around us as she gave us a tight hug. "I couldn't believe it when I got a call from the owner that the building was on fire. I called you, Tessa, but you didn't answer."
"I threw my phone in my bag. It's on silent. Sorry."
She stepped away to look at us, her gaze narrowing with concern. "You're sure neither of you is hurt?"
"We're fine. The medics checked us out," I said.
"I don't understand what happened. How did the fire start?"
"We don't know. We woke up to smoke. We couldn't go down the stairs as the fire was coming up. The firefighters took us out the window."
"This is awful."