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So I kick the handle with all my might and throw myself at it repeatedly.

“Anoushka…go…please…”

“Shut up.” I’m sobbing through my coughs as I kick and punch and hit the handle. My feet sting, my hand screams in pain, and my vision has filled with tears, but I refuse to give in.

“If you stay…we’ll both die…” Jeremy sounds far away, almost like he’s in another realm.

“I’m not leaving you.” I kick the handle again, my strength waning. “I’d rather die with you than live knowing I could’ve saved you but didn’t.”

I pack all my energy in one final kick against the handle and it comes off, falling to the ground.

My heart leaps as I push the door open. A hot wave of heat physically jerks me backward and I tighten my grip on the cloth.

The room is completely gray, reeking of smoke. The fire has eaten up the northern wall and is advancing with creepily easy speed.

“Jer?”

No reply.

My fist clenches and I can feel the emotions clogging my throat as I cough.

I call my brother’s name again, spooked this time, and getting weaker. I’m swaying and I don’t think I’ll be able to stand on my feet for much longer.

He was right, after all. Maybe we were meant to die together tonight.

I snort. Jer is always right.

Tears stream down my face as I lose my footing, and the fabric falls to the ground. “Jer…”

My side hits a wall—no, not a wall.

It’s warm, but not with the lethality of the flames. It’s suffocating, but not like the deadliness of the smoke.

Strong arms pull me up effortlessly and I end up flush against a rock-hard chest.

My vision slowly focuses on Creighton’s beautiful face that’s half covered by a gas mask. Despite that fact, I would recognize him anywhere.

And it’s all because of these piercing light eyes that haunt me everywhere I go.

For a moment, I think this is a figment of my imagination and I’m making him up in my most dire situation.

But he is here.

For me.

Creighton removes the mask, revealing his tight, sharp features. He straps it to my face. I inhale the clean air deeply, then pull it away, my other hand fisting his shirt.

“Jer…is over here.”

“We have to go.”

“Not without Jeremy.” I don’t recognize the heat in my voice.

Because I will not move from here until my brother is safe.

Creighton shoves the mask back onto my face and pushes me toward the exit. “Leave.”

“No—”

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