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She didn’t react, hypnotized by the blaze, not moving.

“Fuck.”

My pulse spiked.

“Grace.” The lining of my throat hurt.

Even if a neighbor had called the fire in, the firefighters could never get down here in time to save her. I had to think fast. Flames exited the roof now. The gingerbread house would burn down and take the only girl I’d ever loved with it.

I coughed. My eyes stung from the smoke thickening the air.

I had no time to think. I had to act. And fast.

Behind me, Clarissa came out of her stupor and screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Clarissa, call nine-one-one.”

No reaction.

I couldn’t count on her. She was of no use, frozen by fear.

Raising my arms above my head, I grasped the first branch of the big tree close to the burning house and lifted myself up. All my life, I’d been a musician, not an athlete. Even though I hit the gym every week, I wasn’t the most skillful climber out there. But I would do just about anything to save this girl.

I reached the second branch, avoiding looking down as the tree shook under my weight. Two more feet up and I would be able to balance myself to try and kick the bedroom window until it shattered. I had no idea if the plan would work, but I was willing to try anything. Even if it meant breaking my neck in the process.

“Clarissa, call for help,” I hollered from my perch. “Please.”

She stood still, now in a fit of tears.

Pushing on the tips of my toes, I gripped the branch above my head and swung until I could lock my legs around its girth and sit on it. Almost there. I had done it. Now, all I had left to do was to break in through the bedroom window that was at least four feet away. My blood turned to ice in my veins. How could I achieve that?

A head peeked through the smoke. “Grace.”

I motioned her to open the window so I could jump inside and save her.

She nodded and disappeared. Where was she? Ohmygod. Where did she go?

Seconds felt like eternity.

How did Grace, in a short period of time, become an extension of me, a piece of my heart? I couldn’t tell. But this couldn’t be the end. Our story hadn’t even begun yet.

A chair passed through the glass. For a fraction of time, relief flooded me, but the oxygen fed the flames, and their intensity increased. Even from a distance, the heat burned my skin. My eyeballs itched from the dryness.

“Grace?”

Where did she go now?

Not thinking it through, I pushed back and then sprang forward, using the tree branch as a pendulum to climb through the window.

Smoke choked me.

My eyes teared, and I could barely see two feet ahead.

A small hand caught my arm, and I relaxed, despite the danger surrounding us.

“Fuck, I thought I had lost you.”

I pulled her into my arms. “We”—my throat itched, and I tried to swallow to ease the pain lodged there—“gotta get you out of here.”