Page 121 of The Attic on Queen Street
“Jack,” I whispered, my voice thick with fear.
“I’m here,” he whispered back.
And in that moment, all the uncertainty and confusion that had surrounded us for the last months rubbed away like tarnish, leaving behind the solid foundation that had always been Jack and me. Despite the direness of the situation, I felt a surge of confidence. We had yet to fail at overcoming a problem as long as we had been together.
I felt Jayne’s fingers touching mine, and slowly I took hold of her hand as we silently chanted the words our mother had taught us.We are stronger together.
The sounds of shuffling movement and Nola’s soft crying came from behind us as Michael dragged her toward the open door. Her feet bumped down the steps before an icy wind swept through the room, slamming the door with a deafening crash. We collectively rushed toward the door as Thomas tried to turn the now-immovable knob. A wobbling noise redirected my attention to the window, where the hurricane lamp teetered on its base, rocking back and forth as if in the middle of a tempest.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion, my shouts slurred and my feet leaden as if I was running in a dream. Before I reached the window, the lamp tilted one last time before crashing to the floor, shattered glass hitting me in the legs, and the lit candle falling on a pile of old newspapers. The paper ignited with a loudpoof, tall flames erupting and reaching toward the ceiling like groping fingers.
Jayne grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the door. “Adrienne! Help us!”
The cold wind continued to whip at our faces and at the fire, feeding the hungry flames. Jayne squeezed my hand, giving me the courage to speak.
“Lauren—don’t do this! He’s not worth it—he took your life because you hurt his wife. Hiswife. You were a fling and nothing more. Why are you helping him now? Why are you ruining your one chance at redemption?”
LIES.The word rebounded inside my head, the single syllable a low growl that ricocheted off the walls of the attic.
The flames grew fiercer, creeping toward us as we all huddled by the door, the icy wind continuing to spin like a whirlwind, a tornado of fire twisting in the middle of the room. We pressed ourselves against the door, feeling the heat on our faces, choking on the smoke as the three men worked on opening the door, their shouts of frustration mixing with the roar of the flames.
The scent of Vanilla Musk ebbed and flowed as if Lauren and Adrienne were locked in battle. I fell back against Jack as the flames neared and he pressed himself against Jayne and me, his back to the flames.
“Please, Lauren,” I cried out. “You don’t have to do this. We know what Michael did. You don’t need to protect him anymore.” The wind picked up, the flames exploding toward the ceiling. My blouse stuck to my heated skin, saturated with sweat and the possibility of defeat.
Beau’s voice bellowed over the roar of the fire and the pounding on the door, an indecipherable sound like a cross between a wounded howl and an ancient curse. The wind stilled for a moment, and then a large chest of drawers scraped its way across the room, creating a temporary barrier between us and the fire.
Beau turned toward us, his face dripping sweat. “Open the door. Now!”
Jack and I grabbed the handle together, and it twisted under our hands. He stepped back and gently shoved me forward down the stairs. I grabbed the banister as I felt the press of people behind me, propellingme downward. I waited for Jayne, watching as everyone else ran down the stairs. Then I took hold of her hand.
We began chanting loudly.We are stronger together.I felt Lauren’s cold hands on my back pushing me forward, but I didn’t stop, even as I stumbled. I would have fallen down the rest of the stairs, but Jack caught me and held on.
Jayne’s voice rang out in the stairway as she faced the inferno in the attic. “You’re forgiven, Lauren. Do you understand? You’re forgiven. You don’t need to hold on anymore. It’s over.”
The direction of the wind changed, the scent of perfume now stronger. I lifted my face and spoke toward the flames. “Head toward the light, Lauren. It’s okay to leave. You are forgiven. Leave now so Adrienne can also find peace.”
A loud moan mixed with the wind whipped around our heads before the wind suddenly stopped, the cold and the oppressive force dwindling until all that was left were the roar of the fire and the sound of sirens outside.
“Nola,” I said. “We have to get Nola.” We hurried down the stairs to join the others, choking and coughing, as desperate to get away from the flames as we were to find our daughter.
We raced out into the yard to find pandemonium, with firemen, policeman, and neighbors congregating in the small yard. Thomas had apparently caught up to Michael, and he was in the process of cuffing him when Jack ran across the lawn and began shaking Michael hard enough that it made my own teeth hurt.
“Where is Nola? Where is she?”
“She’s fine, Jack,” Thomas said. “She’s in the back of Michael’s car, but she’s unharmed.”
Jack shook Michael one last time and then the two of us headed toward the car, realizing before we reached it that the backseat was empty. We looked up in confusion, searching the sea of people in the yard for Nola. I started to panic at the sight of the house, where flames and smoke were now pouring out of the upstairs windows, and my ears pounded with the sounds of shattering glass and splintering wood.
And there, climbing the front steps in a zigzag motion, was Nola. We stared in numb horror as she waved at us.
“I need to get my guitar,” she shouted, her voice barely audible over all the noise. She turned, swaying as she made her way through the open front door.
“Nola!” Beau shouted, but she didn’t reappear.
We had barely begun moving forward when Beau sprinted past us and disappeared inside the house behind her. Not two seconds later, a loud crash came from inside, followed by a billow of smoke and fire from the doorway. I screamed, falling to my knees as Jack ran toward the front door, only to be pulled back by a fireman who refused to let go no matter how much Jack struggled or cursed at him.
I ran to Jack and we clung to each other, neither one of us willing to accept what we had just seen. Veronica and Jayne came to stand with us, all of us sobbing, deaf to the pleas of the fireman, who urged us to step away from the flying sparks and growing flames as the fire consumed the house.
