Page 117 of Sweet Ruin

The door to the apartment burst open, and I struggled to focus on the person who appeared before me. The next thing I knew, I was being shaken, and my eyes popped open. Had they even been shut? I smiled as I saw Noah’s features form before me.

“You came,” I mumbled.

“I’ll always come for you,” he replied. “I have to get you out of here. The fire’s spreading quickly downstairs.”

The fire. Hearing the word seemed to clear the fog in my brain enough so I could think once more, and I shook my head, pulling away from him. “You need to get my mom.”

“Help is coming.”

My mom couldn’t wait though. “Noah, please,” I begged though the word sounded so faint.

A cough came from behind Noah, and I looked up to see Matthew standing in the doorway, his face smeared in ash. “Noah, go. I’ve got Candice,” my father yelled at Noah, coughing again as he rushed to my mom’s side.

Noah gathered me in his arms. “It’s okay, Isobel, I’ve got you.”

He rushed from the room as though I were as light as a feather. We reached the stairs leading down to the café as fire licked the banister and crawled up the walls. It was so hot it felt like my face might melt, but Noah charged right down the stairs, through the flame-lit corridor, and out into the fresh night air.

We were both coughing as we emerged from the building, and Noah set me on the ground as soon as we were free. He turned to head straight back inside, but my father followed right after us, cradling my mom carefully in his arms.

Sirens blared somewhere in the background. It was dark, but the fire cast a haunting orange glow across the quiet street. A few people were gathering on the other side of the road, staring up at the blaze in horror. But all I could focus on was my mom. Matthew had her on the ground and was already performing CPR. Tears streaked down my cheeks as I crawled over to her. My mom’s life was hanging on the line as the thing she lived for burned down in the darkness behind her.

I held my mom’s hand as Matthew tried to save her life. I wished I could do something to help, but I could barely stay upright. I was still finding it so hard to breathe, and I felt so feeble.

“Isobel?” Noah’s alarmed voice rang out.

I started to fall, and everything went black.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR

For the second morning in a row, I woke to a beeping sound. It was far softer than the last one I’d heard. Far less urgent and annoying. I felt so groggy as I listened to the constant melodic beep, and even the thoughts that rose to the surface of my mind were sluggish. I couldn’t seem to remember where I was. I couldn’t recall how I’d fallen asleep last night.

I so easily could have drifted back to sleep, and I had to fight toward wakefulness. My eyelids were heavy, and my body felt numb, but I gradually blinked open my eyes.

The room was bright, and the beeping noise only sounded louder now I was more awake. There was something on my face, but I could also feel a weight on my legs, and as I glanced down the bed, I found Noah sitting in a chair beside me, his head resting on the bed as he slept. His skin was pale, and his clothes were rumpled. He looked exhausted, and I couldn’t understand what he was doing in my room. Why he was asleep in a chair when he so clearly needed a bed of his own?

I dragged in a breath and felt the pinch of plastic across my face once more. I lifted a hand and was met with the hard shell of a mask beneath my fingertips. I drew in another frantic breath as I tried to work out what was going on. Why was I wearing a mask? My heartbeat quickened. Where was I? I started trying to pry the mask from my face.

“You need to leave that on for now.”

I turned to the voice and saw Matthew sitting in a chair on the other side of my bed. He looked just as exhausted as Noah. His hair was a mess, and his usual pristine shirt and smart pants were covered in grime. There was even a smudge of dirt on his face. I’d never seen him look so disheveled, and my confusion only grew.

What was he doing here? Where were we? And why was Noah here too?

I was still so drowsy, and I was struggling to think clearly. Perhaps if this room wasn’t quite so bright, I could focus. My attention caught on a transparent bag hanging at my bedside, and my gaze followed a tube that snaked away from it to meet my hand.

“You’re in the hospital,” Matthew said softly.

“What hap—” My voice was completely hoarse, and the words came out a rough whisper.

“There was a fire,” Matthew replied. “But you’re okay. You and your mom are going to be okay.”

The memory of the fire slammed back into me, and my eyes widened as I glanced around in a panic. "Where is she?”

I felt like I was choking on smoke all over again, and a nurse rushed in as the monitor at my side started beeping wildly. I clawed at my mask. I needed to get it off. I needed to get out of this bed. I needed to find my mom.

“Your mom’s okay,” Matthew repeated. His hands rested on my shoulders. “She’s still in the ICU, but she’s okay. You need to take deep breaths, Isobel.”

Then Noah’s face was above me, and he lightly touched my cheek. “Matthew’s right. You need to breathe slowly,” he said. “Copy me. In and out.” He breathed. “In and out.”

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