Chapter Thirty-OneCinnamon’s green eyes glanced from Sax to the door and back again. “Is that smoke?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“It’ll be okay,” said Sax. I hope.
Cinnamon sniffled, wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand to clear away salty tears, then stood up from the bed and walked to the window overlooking Park Avenue. Let me see,” she said impatiently grabbing the curtain and pulling it aside.
Her eyes grew ever wider as she stared at the gathering of fire trucks far below. A sharp knock on the door and a woman’s voice asking if anyone was in the room caused them to look at each other.
Now Sax knew what fear smelled like. It’s smoky. Her mouth dried and a knot formed in her stomach. And it tastes like squid flavored gum. Who knew?
“Yes,” Cinnamon called, “we’re
