Chapter Fifty Scorched Sorrow
For one long, horrible second, I don’t believe my eyes.
For two even longer seconds, I think that maybe she’s a phoenix, like Ember, and just never knew it.
But somewhere about four seconds in, I realize this is nothing like what happened to Ember.
Eva is on fire.
She reaches for me, and I jump up, screaming, as I look for something to smother the flames with. Because I’m a total jerk, I just sent my comforter flying into the rain, so I rip my sheet off my bed and throw it over her in a desperate attempt to stop her from burning. And then I swat at her much like Jude did to Ember, but the fire just keeps on raging. Even worse, Eva is screaming now, too, and it’s the most horrific sound I’ve ever heard.
“You’re going to be okay,” I tell her as I grab the glass of water I just got and throw it on her before reaching for my bottom sheet, too. But even as I slap it down on top of her, I know it isn’t going to work.
“Eva, you’re going to be okay!” I yell as I grab my phone and dial the emergency dorm director for help.
Then I pull my extra blanket from the basket at the end of my bed and thrust it outside to get wet.
It only takes a couple of seconds for the rain to soak it, but even that’s too long. Because the fire is spreading, climbing up the walls and curtains to the ceiling. I throw the soaking-wet blanket on her anyway, but she’s not sitting up anymore, and she’s not moving. What’s left of her is just lying, still, in the center of the bed as flames engulf the entire room while the phone I’m holding goes straight to voicemail.
I stare at Eva in shock as the fire spreads across the floor, its greedy fingers eating up the cheerful rug we’d picked out together as soon as we found out we were going to be roommates this year. There’s a part of me that knows I need to get out, that knows it’s dangerous for me to be in this room any longer.
But I can’t just leave Eva here to burn. Even if she’s gone, I can’t just walk away and let her—
“Clementine!” A voice makes its way through the roar of the fire and the creaking of the wood as it’s slowly burning away. “Clementine!”
“Jude?” I scream back as the owner of the voice registers in my mind.
“Where are you?”
I start to answer—maybe he can help me get Eva out of here—but the smoke sends me into a coughing fit that nearly brings me to my knees.
“Clementine, goddamn it, where are you?” Jude roars as the front door of the cottage slams open.
And that’s when I know I can’t stay here any longer. I can’t let Jude risk his life coming into this room, not when the entire cottage is about to go up in flames.
I turn back to look at Eva—one last look—at the girl who just a few hours ago was telling me that everything was going to be okay.
And then I run.