Chapter 2: The Woman Who Found Us
I pulled back the curtain and stopped breathing.
Our entire front path was lined with people.
Neighbors.
Strangers.
A news van parked at the curb.
And right at the door — the woman from the fire, holding her little boy's hand.
She had found us.
"I asked everyone on the block," she said quietly.
"I had to find you."
Her name was Diane.
The boy's name was Thomas.
He was four years old — same age as Kevin.
She held out an envelope with both hands.
"This isn't enough.
I know that.
But please."
I shook my head.
"I don't want anything."
"You carried us out," she said, her voice breaking.
"You went back in for us when everyone else was standing on the street watching."
Then a man stepped forward from the crowd.
Suit.
Tie.
I didn't recognize him.
"Are you the one who pulled them out?" he asked.
"Yes," I said slowly.
He reached into his jacket pocket.
"I own the building across the street.
I've been looking for you since yesterday."
He handed me a card.
I looked down at it.
Then Emily grabbed my arm.
Because behind the man in the suit, someone else had just stepped out of a car.
It was Greg.
May you like
And the expression on his face was not anger.
It was fear.
