When I turn back to the door, I finally remember my school lessons about what to do in the event of a fire. When I opened the door I’d let a bunch of air in, feeding the riotous flames. A wall of fire is blocking the door, and all I can do is tuck Pancake inside my shirt, and hope I’m fast enough. I sprint forward and leap through the flames, batting out sparks that linger in my hair on the other side. I’m choking and coughing, and belatedly remember to crawl on the ground where there’s more oxygen. I’m still crawling along on one hand, using the other to hold Pancake still, when I hear my mother’s frantic screams. “Dominic!” She cries, “Dominic where are you!”
“Mommy!” I call back, suddenly seeing her ahead of me. She has a wet rag pressed to her mouth, and her eyes are wide with terror.
