I wanted to promise him I would be back, but I couldn’t and wouldn’t do that.

Even with the lights turned off, I could see his lip trembling, feel the tension and fear rolling off him in waves as his five-year-old brain wrapped around the same possibility mine did. I was going into a burning house, but there was no other choice.

I stood up and nudged at his hands. “Call right now—and don’t leave the house. I love you!”

Tears filled those blue eyes I was so in love with, and later on, I could appreciate how mature he was being by not begging me to stay even though I knew it was probably killing him inside. But I had to go.

I blew a kiss at Lou and ran out of the house, only barely managing to stick my feet into the flip-flops I’d kicked off at the door when I got home earlier.

And I ran.

I didn’t even bother closing the door behind me; I just sprinted across the street like I’d never sprinted in my life, trusting that Louie knew what he was doing. In hindsight, I should have woken up Josh who wasn’t five years old, but there hadn’t been any time and… what were the chances that Miss Pearl had gotten out on her own? Maybe she was standing somewhere I couldn’t see.

But as I quickly glanced around at the surrounding houses, I saw the harsh reality: I was the only one who knew something was going on despite the crazy amount of smoke already polluting the sky. Dread filled my stomach, as well as this sense of I don’t what to do this, but I have to.

I had to. I knew I did. I couldn’t just pretend.

I shot a quick glance at Dallas’s house, but there wasn’t time to go bang on his door and try to wake him up. Fires were fast, weren’t they? And if it took him or Jackson a while to get up…

My legs pumped even faster as I hit the white picket fence around her front yard, slapping the gate wide open as I vaulted up the three steps leading to her porch in an act I couldn’t appreciate.

Like a complete moron, I grabbed the door handle, forgetting everything I’d learned in elementary school about what you were supposed to do during a fire.

The “motherfucking fucker” that came out of me as the metal burned my palm was lost in the night sky and smoke. Cradling my hand to my chest, I thought for a brief second about kicking the door open, but I didn’t. Who did I think I was? Leonidas in 300? I had flip-flops on and there was no way I was strong enough to do that.

After that, everything was a blur.

For the rest of my life, I’d remember breaking Miss Pearl’s window with one of her garden gnomes and climbing inside, trying my best not to cut myself. I would never forget the smoke and how strong it was. How it filled everything, every inch of my skin, the surface of every single one of my teeth, the back of my throat, my very fucking heart and my poor lungs. There was no way I could forget how bad my eyes stung and how much I regretted running out in my underwear and a tank top that wasn’t long enough for me to at least cover my mouth.

And I would remember finding Miss Pearl crawling across the floor in the kitchen where I’d cut her hair in the past. I could never forget the terror on her face as I helped her up, shouting words I didn’t think either one of us knew what they were.

There was no way I would ever forget how hard I was coughing either. How I felt like I couldn’t breathe and how I didn’t understand how Miss Pearl was still doing it when I’d only been in the house for a second. I carried a lot of her weight on our way out because I knew I was rushing even though she couldn’t move very quickly. I’d seen her walk normally and running wasn’t an option. But everything stung and I wanted to get the hell out of there before the fire spread or before something else happened. I’d seen Backdraft as a kid. There weren’t any beams that could fall on us, but I wasn’t about to take any chances.

“My cat,” the woman somehow managed to tell me. “She’s inside.”

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t process what she was saying. I was too worried and scared about getting out of there with her, especially when she couldn’t walk fast. I forgot about my hand as I undid the lock and opened the front door, so relieved to be almost out of there.

We made it passed the lawn as we both hacked up our lungs. My back, neck, and cheeks burned and itched. But we kept going across the street where I could spot both boys standing at the doorway with Josh holding the phone to his face.

They ran out as I helped Miss Pearl onto the grass. I’d told Louie not to leave the house, but I wasn’t about to remind him he had ignored me.

“Are you okay?” Josh asked as he and Louie barreled into me, throwing their arms around me like spider monkeys, oblivious to the woman by their feet.

“The firefighters are coming,” Louie said quickly.

“Diana, my cat is in the house,” Miss Pearl’s voice pleaded, as something I could only assume was her hand landed on my thigh.

I was coughing, hugging the boys back as her words finally sank in.

“Diana, Mildred is still in there,” she repeated herself. “She has bad eyes and can’t see good.”

I eyed the house over the top of the boys’ heads, noticing that it wasn’t engulfed in flames yet, despite how smoky everything inside had been.

“Please,” Miss Pearl pleaded.

Honestly, I wanted to cry as I got up, disentangling the boys from around me. Did I want to go save her cat? No. But how could I let it die? If it was Mac…

I met Josh’s eyes because there was no way I could look at Lou right then. “I’ll be right back. I’ll be right, right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

And I ran again, not waiting for either of them to comment or beg me. My burned hand was against my chest as I crossed the street, through the white picket fence that I would forever associate with almost dying. The front door was open as I ducked in, trying to keep closer to the floor because I’d already learned my lesson about the smoke that had gotten worse over the last few minutes it had taken me to get Miss Pearl out of there.

“Mildred!” I yelled, squinting and trying to look around the floor of the living room. “Mildred!” The smoke was horrible, and I coughed up what felt like one of my lungs as I shoved at furniture, trying to find the damn old cat.

I wasn’t going to die for it. I couldn’t do that to the boys, but I also couldn’t live with Miss Pearl’s face if I didn’t at least try to get her pet back.

“Mildred!” I shrieked with my raw throat.

I barely heard the low meow. Barely. It was a miracle I did. With my eyes burning, my skin burning, my hand burning, I couldn’t believe I found the old, nearly blind calico hidden in a corner by the door, shaking. I scooped her up, wheezing, crying because my eyes stung so badly. The heat was horrible, and I didn’t know then that it would be a long time before I ever took a steaming hot shower again.

I ran out of the front door, coughing, coughing, coughing. I could barely see as I tried to make it down the steps, tripping and missing the bottom one, which sent me flying down the sidewalk, landing hard on my knees. The cat went running away from me and the fire as I hacked up a lung, panicking, knowing I needed to get away. Knowing the neighbors on either side of Miss Pearl needed to get away too.

But my legs weren’t working. Neither was my brain. I was too busy trying to get my lungs to breathe.