Page 37 of Kissing the Beach Town Fire Chief
Chapter twenty
Ami
The room is buzzing. Everyone’s packed shoulder-to-shoulder, waiting for the final announcement. My heart is pounding in time with the murmurs around me.
Any second now, we’ll know who won the last race.
I scan the crowd for Aunt Maggie, but she’s not at the front with the other candidates, and she’s not by the bleachers either. That’s strange. If anyone would want to stand front and center when they read the results, it’s her.
She’s still furious with me for siding with Ethan, and I can understand why. I made the choice I believed in—still believe in—and she has every right to disagree. But I pray she won’t stay mad forever. We’ve fought before, but we always find our way back to each other.
“Barry!” I tap the shoulder of the man next to me. “Have you seen Aunt Maggie?”
He nods toward the back. “Think I saw her heading toward the kitchen a few minutes ago.”
“Thanks,” I say, weaving out of the crowd.
I’m halfway down the hallway when shouts break out behind me. Two men rush past, faces tight.
“What’s happening?” I grab the arm of the last man sprinting by.
“The kitchen—it’s on fire!” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing around the corner.
The words hit like a slap.
Aunt Maggie.
She’s in the kitchen.
I don’t think—I just run, dodging people who are moving in the opposite direction. The closer I get, the thicker the smoke becomes, curling into the hallway in gray, acrid waves. My lungs burn with the first breath.
“Aunt Maggie!” I shout, coughing as the smoke scratches my throat raw. No answer. My heart hammers. Is she already out? Or—no. Don’t think it.
Someone yells for the fire department. I fumble for my phone and hit Ethan’s number.
He answers on the third ring. “Ami?”
“Where are you?” I demand.
“I just stepped outside to take a call—what’s wrong? You sound—”
“There’s a fire at the community center. In the kitchen. Aunt Maggie’s in there. Please—get here fast!”
“I’m right here. I’ll be in the building in under a minute. Get to safety—my crew and I will handle it.”
He hangs up, and I force myself forward.
“Aunt Maggie? Are you inside?” I call, my voice tearing with urgency.
“Ami?” Her voice is faint, muffled by the crackle and roar. Relief slams into me. She’s alive—but trapped.
“I’m here!”
“The fire’s blocking the door. I can’t see anything! Go, honey—go outside!”
“I’ve called for help. Just hold on!” My voice wavers. I don’t know how long she can.
The air is thick now, visibility dropping to a smoky blur. People are shouting somewhere behind me, but the sound is distant, muffled by the rush of blood in my ears.
