Amy Stone
At the landing we meet a swarm of people and a uniformed hotel manager who is small and frantic. He points to the fire exit. "This way! This way! Stay low! Keep moving!"
We push through, but every breath is a battle. My chest feels as if it's been wrapped with rope.
Kael's breath is a ragged whisper against my ear. "Tell me the truth, Amy," he says. The words surprise me because he can barely talk. "If you hide things, it puts us in danger."
My heart stabs. The truth is a hot coal. It will burn if I hold it. It will burn if I drop it.
"I—" I begin, but a tremor of coughing steals the sentence. The stairwell shakes with the thump of steps behind us, with the frantic pressing of bodies.
Somewhere below us a door slams. A cry splits the air — someone in pain. The whole buildi
