As we bounded up the stairs, the creaking of the steps echoed our frantic heartbeats, promising to give way at any moment. Willow stirred in my arms, her eyes fluttering open. She looked at me, her face smeared with soot but her eyes full of trust.
"I'm sorry," she muttered weakly.
“There's nothing to be sorry for. We’re getting out of this,” I said, more for myself than for her. Her eyelids drooped again, the exhaustion overtaking her.
The sound of the fire seemed distant now, overpowered by the sound of our breaths and footsteps thudding against the metal steps. The further we climbed, the hotter it got, making each stride a Herculean effort.
We burst through a door at the top of the staircase, emerging onto the rooftop. The night air was a harsh contrast, cold and biting against our
