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“Do you hab a baby in your belly?” she asks, and her mom gasps. She covers Emery’s mouth with her palm while mouthing,‘“I’m so sorry!”
“Emery! You don’t just ask people that!” Her cheeks are as red as the little girl's hair.
I chuckle, nodding to Emery and holding up two fingers. “I have two babies in my belly. Two baby boys.”
The little girl brings her tiny hands up to her mouth and she squeals in excitement. “You hab two babies in your belly!” She shows her mom two fingers and her mom giggles at her daughter.
I stand to my full height, turning to Emery’s mom. “I’m Heather, this is my studio.”
“I’m Brittany, and this is my boyfriend Devin.”
“It’s nice to meet you guys. She is absolutely adorable.”
Brittany smiles, watching her daughter spin in circles on her tippy toes. “I was so excited to see the post about you opening this here. Emery has been begging to dance, but the closest studio is thirty-five minutes from us and, with my work schedule, it never would’ve worked.”
“Well, welcome! We have one of our teachers, Clara, dancing with the kids in room one right over there,” I say and point to the opening of the hallway leading towards all of the classrooms. “If Miss Emery has a good time, you are more than welcome to check out the different classes we’re going to be offering, in room two.” I take a breath and grin, hoping I’m giving my best selling smile.
More families trickle in over the next half hour. My phone remains silent, yet I seem to be the only one worrying about Trigger’s absence.
Brenna takes my spot at the front door for a while so I can make my way around the studio to chat with different people. I don’t know what gravitates me towards the beautiful little redheaded girl, but Emery has sure captured my attention, and watching her follow behind Clara as she dances warms my heart.
I make my way back to the front of the studio when the loud piercing of a fire truck’s siren whizzes past, and I swear the sound rattles the glass windows. I can’t explain why, but dread drops to the pit of my stomach when, a few minutes after the fire truck and police cruisers fly by, Flame’s phone rings.
My ears clog with fear, yet I think I would hear a pin drop in this instant as my eyes meet Flame’s. I shake my head in denial when disbelief seems to cross his face. He shakes his head at whoever is on the other line and quickly pushes to his feet.
I’m frozen to my spot. I can’t seem to make my feet move in his direction. Flame shoves his phone in his pocket, saying something to the other men that I’m not able to hear from my spot near the front door.
Ghost rushes out of the studio before I can even blink and I vaguely see Ringer take off running down the hall towards the classrooms. Flame stops in front of me, grabbing ahold of my upper arm. “We gotta go!”
I blink in wonder, shaking my head and trying to reorient myself back to the present. “What happened?”
The despair on Flame’s face is clear as he tugs on my arm towards the front door. “We have to go, Heather. Now.”
The use of my real name has pins and needles radiating throughout my body. I silently follow behind him as he rushes me to my parked car out front.
“Where are your keys!” he yells.
“In-in my purse. In the office!” I stammer.
Ringer rips open the back door of my SUV and a sobbing Lilah gets in behind me. Ringer’s expression alone looks like he is ready to commit murder.
After what feels like an eternity, Flame jumps in the driver seat, starts the engine, and pulls out. The tires squeal as he quickly takes off down Rose Street. I’m shaking in my seat, and Lilah’s anguished screams threaten to burst my eardrums as we turn onto Main.
A sob escapes my throat when I see that the far end of the plaza is clearly on fire. Firemen try to contain the fire as people from the town stand around and watch Lilah’s bakery burn.
My first and only thought is of Trigger. He was supposed to be here to pick up my stupid cupcakes.What happened to him? Is he okay? Is he alive? Where is he? Why didn’t he show up?
Before Flame can even put the SUV in park, I throw my car door open, not even caring if there are cars coming, and start running across the street to the bakery. The smell of ash chokes me as I get closer to the entrance. Rhett, a cop I went to highschool with, catches me around the waist before I can make it any closer to the doors. I scream in agony thinking about Trigger and whether or not he could be inside and hurt.
“Let go of me!” I sob. “Let me go! Jamie!” I scream.
Strong arms gather me against an equally hard chest as a voice I’ve known my whole life tries to calm me down. “Shh. Heather you have to calm down,” Tank soothes.
“Jamie!” I scream. The tears pouring down my cheeks make the gray smoke float in the air above the bakery blurry.
Tank shushes me, as I’m sure I’m making a scene. “Pebbles, calm down sweetheart.”
I cling to Tank’s shirt under his cut, holding on for dear life. I know that my legs will give out on me if I let go.
