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Dillon hugged her, trying to shield her face, but she pushed him away. “Lucy—”
She’d been so cold in the basement; now she felt burned from the inside out.
The entire place was an inferno. Every plank of wood glowing in the hungry flames. Then the house crumbled as the weight of the second story forced the entire structure to collapse.
Her mouth dropped and she stared. Sean.
No. Oh, God, please.
Dillon squeezed her hand. “Lucy, you need medical attention. Please. You’re bleeding.”
She stared at the melting snow, saw drops of blood falling from her arm, her ankle, her head. Tears of blood, weeping over a loss she couldn’t comprehend. Hope for a normal future was severed by the cruelty of fate.
Kate knelt down. Lucy stared at her. “Why?” It was the timeless question she never had an answer for. And neither did Kate.
Dillon held both of them, but Lucy felt nothing. She was dying inside.
Hans ran over. “They got out the back!”
Lucy stared at him in disbelief. Was this an illusion? She’d seen the house collapse. “You’re sure?”
“I’m positive. Sean and Noah are fine. So is the girl you saved. She’s in the lifeline helicopter now.”
Two SWAT team members flanked Noah, who had his mask off, his face black with soot, and Sean, who now wore Noah’s mask, as they trudged through the melting snow toward the triage area in the driveway near the SWAT van. Dillon helped Lucy stand and she hobbled over to Sean.
He came right to her and held her tight.
FORTY-FIVE
Four Days Later
Lucy hobbled down the stairs, her left foot in a thick bandage, her right arm bandaged as well. The stitches underneath itched, but she couldn’t do anything about it.
Sean was at the bottom of the stairs waiting for her. He looked tired, but other than a few bruises, he was as good as new.
She kissed him and smiled. He ran a hand through her hair and kissed her again, long and soft, holding her close.
“Is everyone here?”
He nodded.
She tilted her head. “Are you okay?”
He pushed back the collar of her shirt and frowned at the cut from Miller’s whip. She reached up to hide the bright red welt, but Sean took her hand into his and kissed it. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “No. Don’t—”
“I should have gone to the church with you. I should never have left you alone.”
Lucy touched his face. “We didn’t know. You couldn’t have known. We all thought Mick Mallory killed Cody.”
Her words didn’t ease his guilt, though she didn’t blame him, or anyone, except Peter Miller.
“I spoke with Carolyn this morning,” she said.
“She’s talking now?”
“Not a lot. I talked more with her mother, who flew in from Pennsylvania to be with her. They’re releasing her from the hospital tomorrow. She has a lot of things to work through, but Dillon’s helping to find her the right counselor, and as I told her, she survived. She won because she lived, and Peter Miller died. I don’t know if it helped, but it gets me through the day.”
