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Her bloodshot eyes fluttered open, and she pressed a crooked grin. “Brook,” she croaked.
Looking at her, I was flooded with memories of my own near-death experience with flames. The blast, the fear, the confusion.
“How are you feeling?” I said, instantly hearing the insanity of the question. “I’m sorry. How silly of me. You must be in horrible pain.”
Closing her eyes, she nodded, then pressed another wry grin as she opened her eyes and looked at me. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
I cocked my head to the side. “Really?”
Even in her condition, she managed to be optimistic.
Her crooked smile widened. “I’m pretty jacked up on painkillers.”
I smiled as I reached for her right hand.
“I looked for you,” I said, feeling so helpless. “Where were you?”
“In the back room, remember?” she whispered.
I shook my head. I didn’t remember.
“We were going to start a pompom routine.”
Fragments of the afternoon came back to me. “Right,” I said, almost to myself. “You offered to go to the back room to get our pompoms.”
“That’s right.”
“But...” I shook my head, not wanting it to be true. “You’re new,” I said. “You shouldn’t have been the one to go back there. I should have gone.”
Guilt crept in and I was suddenly shaken with a bout of responsibility.
“Don’t be silly,” Tuesday said as she squeezed my hand. “It was my second time at the studio. I knew my way around... a bit. There was no reason for you to go.”
I nodded but remained uncertain.
“How did the fire break out?” I said.
Tuesday bit her lip. “I don’t know. It all happened so fast. When I walked into the room, everything seemed normal. I mean, maybe it smelled a little funny... but...”
“Funny how?”
She shrugged. “At first, I thought that maybe one of the girls had gone in there to sneak a smoke. Then I wondered if it wasn’t cannabis. But the smell was a little more... I don’t know... chemical.”
“Chemical?”
She looked at me. “You know... like when you burn garbage... plastics... that strange sort of smell.”
I swallowed as the scene played out in my mind.
“No,” she went on. “Not plastic... gas... oil of some kind.”
I shuddered. Somehow her description of the smell brought back a horrible memory. I knew that smell. I gave her hand a quick squeeze then released it and turned to walk to the window and look outside.
“Are you okay, Brook?”
Nodding, I stared out over the treetops.
“Brook?”
