Flames burst from the windows. Smoke pours from the roof. Glass cracks. Wood snaps. Heat rolls off it in violent waves.
Amelia lunges around the firefighter.
He catches her arm, but she twists free with a scream and runs for the house.
I reach her before she makes it three steps.
My arms lock around her from behind, hauling her back against my chest as she fights me with everything she has.
“No!” she screams. “Let me go!”
“Amelia.”
“She’s inside!” Her nails dig into my arms. “Maverick, she’s inside. My baby’s inside.”
“I know.”
The words tear out of me.
I know.
God help me, I know.
She bucks hard, trying to break free. “Let me go. I have to get her. She’s burning.”
“You can’t go in there, baby,” I say, tears filling my eyes.
Flames burn high and bright out of nearly every window and door. There’s no way inside. She wouldn’t survive more than a few feet inside the door.
“My baby girl!”
Her voice breaks on the last word.
Something inside me breaks with it.
“Do something,” she sobs. “Please. Please, Maverick. Do something.”
I look at the firefighters.
They’re moving. Working. Fighting the fire with everything they have.
But it’s not enough.
I turn on the closest firefighter. “Is it even possible?”
His face is streaked with sweat and soot. “Sir, the fire’s too hot. The back half is unstable. We’re trying to knock it down enough to make entry.”
“A ten-year-old girl is inside that house,” I snarl. “Do your damn job and save her.”
Amelia collapses against me with a broken cry.
The firefighter flinches, but he doesn’t move toward the door.
Because he knows.
He knows what I refuse to believe.
A hand lands on my shoulder.
