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Yet, as he watched her beguiling form saunter out of the adjacent office, not exactly abandon it forever.
CHAPTER 5
It was surprising how much could happen within a month. Sitting down at her account books, Laura totaled the income and expenses for September, and grimaced when she realized she had more expenses than she did income. Last night's Charity Bingo had not been as successful as the first one. She hadn't even raised enough to balance out her net worth.
On top of matters, she had to come up with bail money for Ingrid once again. The girl was arrested for possession of drugs. Being her temporary guardian, Laura was dragged out of bed in the wee hours of the morning down to the police station.
Stifling a yawn, she ran a weary hand through her hair and
wondered how she was going to handle this. She thought of the bundle of money she had handed over to Dexter and cursed herself for letting it go. She wondered what he would say if she were to come back asking for it, and knew instantly she could never give him the satisfaction. He gave her six months to go under, and she managed to accomplish it within one.
A glance at the wall clock told her it was past one o'clock in the morning. Her body already felt exhausted from the night before, but the budget for the past month had to be done. Dexter's warning at the importance of keeping up-to-date on the month-end bottom dollar, came back to haunt her. How she hated admitting he was right, but sitting staring at the figures wasn't going to help change them.
With a sigh, she pushed them aside and got to her feet. Tomorrow she would simply have to plan another fund-raising event was all there was to it. A glance at her turned down bed was too welcoming. Sleep beckoned and there was nothing she could do to resist it.
Upstairs, the slightest vibration from Ingrid's stereo informed her the girl had not yet gone to bed. She knew the girl was upset with Laura for sentencing her to house arrest, but from the beginning she laid out the rules and expected them to be followed.
One of the main goals Laura tried to instill in these girls was responsibility, not only toward the other occupants of the shelter, but with themselves as well. Self-worth was a meaningful and significant trait in an individual.
With a yawn, she closed the binder containing her inapt attempts at bookkeeping, then crawled into bed. Reaching over, she flicked off the bedside lamp and was immediately engulfed in blackness. As so many nights before, an image came to mind. One vexing likeness spurred her displeasure and had her wishing ardently would disappear; yet at the same time, soothingly lured her troubled thoughts into a blissful sleep.
* * *
She woke up to voices, not just ordinary voices but frightened screaming voices. It took a full minute before she could focus and think clearly before immediately leaping from her bed and running to her door to see what all the commotion was about.
As soon as the bedroom door swung open, a blast of thick grey smoke assaulted her nostrils. Instantly, her eyes began to sting, forcing her to close them and grope along the wall outside of the laundry room toward the kitchen. It was no better in there, however, at the least she could hear the girls as they ran from the second floor.
Blindly, she reached the banister and collided into another form. Due to the sobbing, she was able to identify Judy London. “What's going on?”
“Fire!” the girl cried, trying to break free of Laura and escape outside.
Laura's own natural impulse was to do the same, but sanity thrust its logical presence through the fog of sleep and confusion. Springing into action, she had the good sense to ask before the girl disappeared out of the house, “Where is everyone? Have they all made it out safely?”
“I don't know.” The girl was simply wailing now, so Laura let her go and continued up the dark and smoky staircase.
Calling out names, she managed to tumble upon the room occupied by Jenny Fallon and Darcy Walker. “Hello! Is there anyone in here?”
“Laura!” Darcy's voice could be heard through the thickness. “Help me! I can't see or breathe.”
“It's all right, I'm here now.” Pure luck had her reaching out and grasping hold of an arm at first shot. “Where's Chantal?”
“In her crib. I can't see to reach her.”
Managing to govern the situation, Laura took the teenage mother by the arm and steered her in the direction of the staircase. “Stay to the wall, it will lead you out. I'll get Chantal. Now go.”
Though the smoke seemed even thicker, and her throat felt as if had swollen to a grapefruit size, she continued further into the room. The heady particles of carbon filtering the air were lethal and toxic to Laura's consciousness. More than once she felt herself sway from dizziness. For the baby's sake she had to remain alert.
What happened next, she actually heard before feeling when a liberated beam from the ceiling above, came crashing down to the floor below. One moment she was grasping along, painstakingly slow, the next she was struck forcibly across the forehead by debris falling freely from above. It knocked her off her feet, but amazingly not unconscious. The burning beams provided her with a temporary, if not cooling, path of light to Chantal's crib.
Finding the strength from nowhere, she leaped across burning beams and reached over the rails of the infant's bed. Grasping the blankets as well as the crying baby, she covered her up then sprang from the room with raging flames licking her heels. Miraculously, she escaped the burning room and blindly found the staircase, trailing the wall until she felt the cool clear evening air fill her lungs.
She heard Darcy cry, “Thank God, my baby.”
Jenny Fallon along with another girl, Kelly Matthews, came over to Laura's side. “Are you all right?”
Finding herself temporarily unable to speak due to the lingering weight of the smoke in her chest, she simply nodded.
Behind them, Poppy Ullman's voice began to rise loudly in angry. “It's your fault, isn't it?”
