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“Bryan!” I called out for him. “Bryan, break a window and get the fuck out!”
“Damien!” His scream was far weaker that time. “Damien, help me!”
I covered my mouth with my jacket sleeve and held my breath. I tried to open the bathroom door to see if I could get to him that way, but the knob was too hot.
Refusing to give up, I kicked at the door as hard as I could.
Nothing gave.
The heat began searing my back, and I wasn’t hearing any more screams.
There was only a faint cry from the living room.
Michelle?
Rushing down the hall, I picked up the newborn baby my foster mother took in weeks ago and carried her into the hallway. Through the smoke, I ran down the emergency stairwell and into an alley.
Fire trucks blared their sirens from afar, but as I looked up at the flames choking the top levels of the building, I knew that they were already far too late.
Too stunned to move, I watched the scene unfold in slow motion. Someone grabbed me from behind and pushed me out of the way.
I kept Michelle close to my chest, and an explosion sounded from inside the building.
The cries erupted from my throat before I could fully process them.
Gone.
Everyone in that building was fucking gone.
As cops swarmed the area, something told me not to approach them and say I’d gotten out.
Michelle and I were better off walking away.
My brain was still replaying Brian’s screams, and my heart was shattering with every step.
He’s the only real family I had…
Lost in a haze, I carried Michelle for several blocks, debating our next best move.
I had no money, no true family ties, nothing.
There was no way I could care for Michelle on my own, but there was no way in hell I was turning my back on her.
Upon reaching a fire station, I tucked her into a safe haven box.
“I’ll find a way to come back and take care of you, Michelle.” I kissed her forehead. “I promise.”
* * *
After graduating from law school
The only good thing about graduating first in my Harvard class was a promised part-time position that I could check in and out of at any time. Well, it was more like having the “privilege” of being an errand lackey at an established firm.
Bowles & Bushman was flush with the top lawyers from around the country long before my arrival. Whenever I wasn’t getting coffee or taking notes for my superiors, I was using their resources to research what had caused the fire that wrecked my life.
Every late-night session that ended with ‘landlord hero honored years later for rescuing pets,” “landlord receives continued community support,” and “landlord receives multi-million dollar payout” only made me question why no one was looking in his direction.
“Are you Damien?” A gruff voice that belonged to a fellow lawyer made me look up from my notes.
