Finding Ethan
At the twelfth-floor landing, smoke wrapped around her like a curtain. She tore fabric from her sleeve, covered her nose, and stumbled into the hallway.
Flames crawled across the ceiling. The carpet burned beneath her shoes.
Through the haze, she spotted a small figure curled against the wall.
“Ethan!” she shouted.
The boy lifted his head, his soot-streaked face filled with terror.
She dropped beside him. “I’m here, I’ve got you,” she whispered, pulling him close.
“Who are you?” he coughed.
“Doesn’t matter. We’re getting out.”
