Prologue
Maysville, Kentucky
The thunder was sharp and sudden, as if the sky itself had been torn open.
The sound jolted sixteen-year-old Angela Hayes awake, her heart pounding as she blinked into the darkness.
Rain drummed on the roof, harder than she’d ever heard, each droplet sounding like a warning against the shingles.
The room was dim, but a flash of lightning lit up the cabin for a brief moment, casting a white glow over the familiar shapes of her family’s belongings.
Angela squeezed her eyes shut and murmured a prayer, whispering words her mother had taught her for moments like these.
“Lord, keep us safe,” she whispered, clutching the quilt around her shoulders as if it could shield her.
But as she opened her eyes, her unease only grew. This storm felt different. Wilder, somehow. It prowled outside their little home, pressing at the walls, as if looking for a way in. The air crackled with energy, and her skin prickled, a warning thrumming just beneath the surface.
She cast a glance toward her parents, curled up together on the other side of the small cabin.
They slept soundly, her father’s deep breathing blending with the rain, while her mother’s hand rested protectively over David, her younger brother, nestled between them.
The sight calmed her, if only a little, but the strange feeling in her gut didn’t go away.
Another crash of thunder rumbled overhead, and Angela flinched, pulling the quilt closer. She glanced at the cabin walls, watching as shadows leaped with each flash of lightning, stretching across the familiar room in strange shapes that made the small space feel suddenly foreign.
Outside, the wind howled, shaking the cabin with a fierce gust. Angela’s pulse quickened, her fingers clutching the quilt. She took a deep breath, steadying herself.
It’s only a storm, she told herself. Just another summer storm, like so many before.
But even as she tried to convince herself, she knew this was no ordinary storm. The air felt heavy, thick with something dark and restless.
Then, another blinding flash filled the room, and an ear-splitting crack tore through the night, rattling the walls like the fist of an angry giant demanding to be let in.
The sudden brightness faded just as quickly, plunging the cabin back into darkness, but a smell followed—a thick, acrid scent that wrapped around Angela’s senses — smoke.
“Fire!” she choked, panic rising as she scrambled out of bed, her voice ripping through the cabin. “Mama, Papa—wake up! There’s a fire!”
Her parents jolted upright, their expressions shifting from confusion to terror as they registered the smoke curling along the rafters. David stirred, his small face twisting in sleepy bewilderment.
Her father leaped up, grabbed the bucket by the door, and thrust it into Angela’s hands.
“Fill it! We have to douse it before it spreads!”
Angela dashed to the wash basin, her hands shaking so badly that she nearly tipped it over.
She poured the water into the bucket and rushed back, her father throwing it against the growing blaze licking at the cabin wall. Flames leaped hungrily, crackling as they consumed the dry wood.
Another crash of thunder rattled the roof, and with it came a gust of wind that fanned the flames higher.
Her father’s face, usually so calm and steady, was taut with fear as he tried to stamp out the fire with a blanket.
But the flames surged, spreading across the walls like wildfire, devouring everything in their path.
“It’s no use!” Angela’s mother cried, pulling David close. “We need to get out—now!”
Her father threw down the empty bucket, his voice fierce with urgency.
“Angela, go! Get outside, now!”
Angela stumbled backward toward the door, her hand reaching for her mother, who was still clutching David.
The smoke grew thicker, stinging her eyes and filling her lungs with each desperate breath.
“We’re right behind you!” her father shouted over the roar of the flames.
She burst through the door, gasping for air as the cold rain pelted her skin. She turned back just as a fierce crack split the air, and with a terrifying groan, the roof collapsed in a rain of burning timber and sparks.
“Mama! Papa! David!” she screamed, her voice hoarse, choking on both smoke and disbelief.
But only silence met her cries. The cabin was an inferno, its bright, terrible light cutting through the night, casting long shadows across the muddy yard as the rain hammered down.
Angela could only watch in horror, frozen, as the flames devoured everything she had ever known.
She felt the heat sear her cheeks, the storm pressing down on her, as helplessness clawed its way up from her heart and filled her throat with a strangled sob.
She sank to her knees, the wet earth soaking through her nightgown, her mind numb with the brutal realization: She was the only one who had made it out.