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She heard the others calling out, desperate fragments between the alarm’s wails, but couldn’t understand what they were saying. She blindly moved along the plaster wall. Where was the damn door? Someone bumped into her and then moved past.
Camille sniffed the air. Was that smoke she smelled? Her entire body was slick with sweat. Was that why it was so hot in their room? Could there be a fire just on the other side of the door?
There was a thunderous pounding and shouts of “Get out, get out! Hurry!” It must be a fire. She tried to move toward the sound of the pounding, but the shrill cry of the alarm muddled everything. Ahead of her there was a crack in the dark, not much, just a shift in the shadows.
“This way,” came a cry. Someone had found the door. Camille continued to feel her way along the wall, expecting to notice a rise in temperature, but it remained cool to the touch. Finally, her fingers felt air. She was at the exit.
With relief, she stepped into the black hallway before slamming into what felt like a brick wall. The senator. The siren-like screeching continued, adding to Camille’s confusion. Stunned, she stumbled and someone from behind steadied her.
“I got you,” came a loud voice. It was Samuel. “Are you okay?”
Camille nodded, at once grateful and resentful of the strong hands at her hips. “Fine,” she said.
“This way,” came a woman’s voice, and Camille turned to see a small prick of light puncturing the dark. Camille followed the light along with the other three shadowy figures beside her.
“Careful!” the woman shouted and through the dim point of light, Camille saw Maire. “We’re at the steps.”
“Do we have everyone?” came another man’s voice. “Shout out your names.”
One by one, they called out. Maire, Camille, Richard, Samuel, Ned.
“What about Fern?” Camille asked.
“We have to get out,” came the senator’s voice, recognizable by his Texan accent. “Let’s get you all out and I’ll come back for anyone left behind. Now, let’s go,” he ordered.
Camille used both hands to hold on to the banister and carefully made her way down the stairs, led by Maire’s light. They gave up talking. Trying to hear over the caterwaul of the alarm only slowed them down. As they descended the staircase, Camille felt the air cool. They were away from danger now. They just needed to get outside.
Camille had no idea where they were within the massive house. She could only trust Maire and the little dot of light she held up like a beacon in front of them. She didn’t like the feeling—having to rely on anyone else—though she preached to her patients how important it was to be able to trust in others.
“Here,” Maire shouted. “I found it!” After an agonizing moment, a door finally swung open, and the group tripped outside, breathing heavily. A pale, full moon lit the sky.
With the door to the estate closed behind them, the relentless squawk of the fire alarm had dulled. It appeared they were at the back of the building, tucked beneath a portico. Camille collapsed onto a stone bench and lowered her head to her knees, trying to catch her breath.
“Did anyone smell smoke?” the senator asked.
“No smoke, but the room was an inferno,” Samuel said, wiping sweat from his forehead. He was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, reminding Camille that she was barely clothed, but she was too shaken up to care.
“Yeah, that was scary,” Ned agreed. “I wonder where the fire started.” Ned, like Camille, was barefoot. He wore boxers and was bare-chested, his pale skin glowing beneath the incandescent moon.
“Let’s go around this way,” Maire suggested. She wore the same outfit she had on earlier that evening and had the wherewithal to slip on a pair of shoes. “Hopefully Fern is around here somewhere,” Maire continued. “We need to call 911.”
“Wow, would you look at that,” the senator said, and they all turned.
“Is that a pond?” Samuel asked.
“It looks more like a lake,” Maire answered.
Just off in the distance, tucked at the bottom of the property, was a body of water, the light from the moon dancing on its smooth surface. This estate truly had everything, Camille thought.
“Hello!” came a voice, pulling Camille’s attention from the shimmering lake. A light popped on. It was Fern, holding a lantern, standing in the shadow of a canopy of cork trees next to the house. “Come this way.” She waved them toward her.
“What happened?” Camille asked. “Was there a fire?” Everyone began talking at once, asking questions.
“Is the fire department coming?” Maire asked.
Fern held up her hands. “Everyone is safe. Let’s head this way.” Fern gestured behind her, though it was too dark to see through the trees. “Follow me.”
Why was Fern so calm? If the house was on fire, wouldn’t she be frantic? Then she realized that Fern wasn’t dressed in her pajamas like they were. She wasn’t even wearing the outfit she had on earlier in the evening. She wore a floor-length gray satin tuxedo dress with a deep neckline and her hair was swept up in a knot. This was not what one wore when running from a fire.
