Page 114 of Lucky Night

They both turn to the television, which is showing a wide shot of the building.

Counting the floors, we believe the highest level to be breached, where I’m seeing flames behind the windows on the left-hand side, is the thirty-third floor.

Bye-bye, Barbara, he says.

Jesus, Nick!

Contrary to earlier reports, the FDNY has stated that no rooftop rescue plan is in the works. According to a department spokesperson, current weather conditions, specifically significant wind gusts, would make such an operation highly dangerous.

Well, we’re dead, he says. We’re dead!

She crosses to the sofa and sits down. She feels sick.

No rescue from above. Fire creeping up from below. Nine floors away now.

Her mouth tastes sour. She swallows, forcing the nausea back down.

—insists there is at least one feasible route down what is still a structurally sound edifice, which will be available when—and if—the fire is contained and the smoke cleared.

Structurally sound, he says. That’s what they called the World Trade Center.

Nick. Please.

Remember? They insisted on itsstructural soundness. Right up until the moment the South Tower went down.

She has pulled her legs up, wrapped her arms around them. She’s rocking slightly.

We shouldn’t have come, she says. We shouldn’t have come. We should never have come.

He turns on her now. She can almost feel it, a whipping around of his body as he trains his rage and his fear on her.

What are you talking about? We did come. We’re here. So, conditionals? Counterfactuals? They’re pretty fucking pointless right now.

Listen to him. Her protector. Her savior. He’s drawn close, he’s looming over her. If she raises her head, she’ll find him looking down at her with an expression that matches his contemptuous tone. So she doesn’t raise her head.

We’ve been over this, Jenny. We had no choice. In coming here, or in anything wedo.

He’s not in control. She knows the feeling. But to think, as she did not so long ago, that he could keep her safe. Or that she could tend to him!

Talk about dumb. Talk about pointless.

They are alone here, each of them. They don’t know each other. They don’t know themselves. They’re strangers.

They always have been.

Don’t you get it? he says. This is always where we were going to end up, you andme.

She doesn’t want to respond—she has warned herself not to—but she can’t helpit.

From birth? she says.

He throws his hands in the air with a look like,Well, yeah, genius.

She jumps up and crosses the room. This only agitates him further. She can feel him at her heels. She enters the bathroom and tries to shut the door, but he’s already throughit.

Taking a bath? he says. You’re in luck. The tub’s full!

Leave me alone, Nick.

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