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“Keep her still,” the medic said to Dixie.
Dixie pressed her against the pillow, holding firm while he attached white gauze to the wound. Lucy jerked and bit her lip against the sharp pain. “Will’s dead.”
Dixie gripped her hand tight. “Hush your mouth.”
Lucy closed her eyes to the silent tears. An unfamiliar hurt unleashed a flood of torment and remorse within her. This couldn’t be real. She opened her eyes and stared blankly into the night.
“Butter my butt and call me a biscuit,” Dixie murmured.
Lucy turned her head. It took a moment to focus against the flurry of activity all around the building. Will walked toward her, covered in soot.
Her breath caught. A ticked-off Mitzy struggled in his arms. Their eyes met, and she didn’t move her gaze from his until he was close enough so she could stroke Mitzy’s head. The cat snuggled against her hand, purring softly.
The medic glanced up from taping her bandage and raised his eyebrows at the cat.
Lucy ignored him.
“You scared me,” she whispered to Will.
He glanced at the bandage on her arm. “Could say the same. You okay?”
She followed his gaze there. Red splotches already seeped through the gauze.
“Just a scratch,” she replied.
Dixie harrumphed. “Pfft. She needs a doctor. I’ll take the cat. Hospitals get touchy if you show up with ’em.”
She plucked Mitzy from Lucy’s grasp and looked to Will, jerking her head in Lucy’s direction. “Scared yer girl. Glad ya made it out.”
Dixie turned, barked an order at one of the neighbors, and disappeared with Mitzy.
“Robbie’s gone,” Will squeezed her hand. “The roof collapsed. He didn’t make it out.”
He was gone. Robbie was really gone. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Relief or regret? She couldn’t be entirely sure.
Will’s whole body convulsed as he coughed.
“Will…” Lucy started, her blood pressure rising each time his lungs spasmed.
“She’s ready to move,” the medic yelled, and Lucy’s stretcher lurched as someone pulled her to the ambulance.
Will’s breaths were shallow, a horrible scraping sound on each inhale.
“Oxygen tank,” the medic barked.
No. He was really hurt.
“I’m fi—” Will doubled over as a new round of spasms racked his lungs. Lucy tried to pry herself off the stretcher to help him.
One of the paramedics put a hand against her shoulder. “Let them take care of him.”
They loaded Lucy into the back of the ambulance, and Will climbed in behind her. He sat across from her, holding an oxygen mask to his face.
“Will—”
“It’s all right, Luce. Everything’s fine.” The oxygen mask muffled the words. His breath clouded the plastic, partially obscuring his serious expression.
He was wrong. Everything was not fine. Not fine at all.
