Carla and I sat side by side on a bed in a treatment room, our hands wrung together in one big bundle on our laps. Carla was squeezing mine tightly, trying to offer comfort, but I knew she was almost as shaken as me.

Her skin was pale, and she had large, dark bags under her eyes. She kept swallowing and blinking like she was trying to hold back tears or trying to keep her composure. Every now and then, she would lift her hand from the top of the bundle and gently pat mine, or she would stroke the back of my hand. I think she was trying to distract herself.

I wondered how far the fire had spread from my apartment. Was Carla’s home destroyed, as well? How long would her life be in disarray before the building was repaired? What happened to her now? To any of us?

I felt guilt wash over me like a wave, and I folded in half, sobbing. My tears were brought on by guilt and terror in equal measure. I felt so sorry for all the damage that had been done to the building, for the disruption the damage would cause to all the residents, because of my ex. More than this, I was confronted once again with the reality that Victor would stoop to any low to make his message clear. Now to find you.

Carla extricated her hands from mine and began to rub my back. “Sh, honey. It’s okay. You’re safe here.”

My eyes were already red and stinging from the smoke; now that I was crying, I could hardly see. I let myself fall against Carla’s shoulder and sobbed while she cradled me like I was a child. “I just can’t believe what he’s done. He could have hurt so many people…”

“Sh, sh. It’s all right. It looked to me like everyone got out fine. The alarms went off really quick. People evacuated before it spread. I’m sure of it.”

“If anyone was hurt because of me, I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself.”

“This isn’t your fault.”

“How far do you think the fire spread?”

Carla bit down on her lip like she didn’t want to tell me.

“Carla… how far?”

Reluctantly, she told me what she’d seen. “It spread to at least two other apartments on the fifth floor. There was a lot of damage, but I think everyone got out all right. I saw Melissa, from the apartment next to yours, at the window. The ladder was already extended toward her. I’m sure she made it.”

“Did you see her get out?”

“I’m sure she made it.”

That wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear. I wanted Carla to tell me that she’d seen Melissa’s rescue with her own eyes. And what about the others? It made my chest twinge to think about the residents closest to me in the building, and whether they were okay.

I closed my eyes, and my voice came out in a whisper. “I should have run, but I was stubborn. I didn’t want him to win again.”

“What are you meant to do, Jenna? Live your life on the run? Always looking over your shoulder? Never settling down? You couldn’t have known what he would do. You were being brave.”

“I just can’t believe he’d do that…” I repeated, shaking my head in disbelief. I looked up at Carla, and found that I almost couldn’t find any words; I was in shock. Eventually, I stuttered out a recollection. “I woke up, and there was so much smoke.”

Carla’s face creased in sympathy, and she linked hands with me again. Her usual bubbly and exuberant tone had turned grave. She was frowning, her brow creased, her shoulders slumped. She kept taking deep breaths to steady herself.

“I tried to get out through the hall, but there was just fire everywhere. I smelled gasoline.”

“You did?”

I nodded. “I think that’s when it really hit me that there was no way it was an accident.”

“You have to tell the police that. Make sure!”

“I will.”

“What do you think he did? Splashed it on the door?”

“He must have. Or slid something under it. And I was sound asleep. I didn’t hear anything or smell anything until the whole place was already burning.”

Carla’s face was drawn and terrified. She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a tight, affectionate hug. “I can’t believe we could have lost you.”

I couldn’t believe it either. A few minutes later, and I’d have been dead. The fire was further proof that Victor wasn’t trying to win me back—he was trying to get revenge. I’d been disloyal to him, and I would pay.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”

A small smile flickered on my face. “Thanks to Nate.”

I’d felt safe the second I’d heard his voice on that ladder, and known in my heart it was him. The flames had suddenly seemed a million miles away when I was in his arms, and I knew that he was bringing me back to the ground.

I remembered the look in his eyes when he’d taken off his face shield to look at me, and he’d seen that I was all right. The relief in his expression had been real.

“He must have been terrified when he got the call,” Carla said. “I don’t know what I’d have done if that had been me. Froze up, probably. That man’s a hero.”

“I hope he’s all right.”

I was terrified for Nate. Those flames had been vicious, and he’d stayed behind to fight them. There were so many ways those flames could steal him away from me; the smoke in his lungs, a ceiling caving in, a surge of fire swallowing him whole….my mind kept playing over grisly scenes of Nate coming to harm, and it was making it hard to breathe.

My lungs were still irritated from the smoke, and I’d only just been able to stop an incessant cough. They were still burning, though. Each haggard breath I drew was a reminder of the danger I’d escaped.

“They know what they’re doing, Jenna. They’ve done it a thousand times before.”

“I know. But still…”

Carla nodded. “I know.”

We sat in silence for a while, our minds on Nate and Sam back at the apartment, and everyone else who’d been affected by Victor’s act of vengeance.

I’d already been seen by the doctors. I had a small burn on my arm, which had been treated and dressed. It would heal fine; it was only minor. I’d been taking regular breaths from an oxygen mask for the past hour while I was being monitored. My skin felt sore and tender like I’d gotten a sunburn, and my chest was tight and irritated, but I knew that I’d been lucky. I had walked away, and I would recover completely. I’d survived.

Our conversation ended when the doctor returned. She was an attentive woman with sleek blonde hair in a high ponytail and kind, but serious eyes. She seemed weary but smiled.

“Miss Dawson—”

“—Jenna is fine.”

“Jenna—how are you doing?” She consulted her clipboard. “All of your vitals are looking good at this stage. I’d like to monitor you for just another couple of hours to be sure you’re all right, but I think we’ll be able to release you this morning.” Her expression became concerned. “Do you have somewhere you can stay?”

That heavy sense of doom hung in my chest once again. I held back tears and forced a smile. “I’ll find somewhere.”

“If you need anything at all, just let one of the staff know. There are phones throughout the building that you can use if you need to, and someone can call you a cab if you’re going to have any trouble getting to your destination.” She paused a moment to see how I’d taken the first chunk of information before she continued with the next, with an almost apologetic tone in her voice. “The police are in the hall, Jenna. They’re ready to take your statement. Should I bring them in?”

I nodded.

The doctor left the bay, and I turned to Carla. “I’m scared to talk to the police, Carla. I don’t know what Victor will do if he thinks I’ve turned him in.”

Carla’s hand closed around mine. “He’s dangerous, Jenna. He needs to be somewhere where he can’t hurt anyone else.”

“I know you’re right.” I took in a deep breath and gave her a firm nod. “I can do this.”

“You can. I’m right here for you.”

I cast her a worried glance. “And what about you, Carla? Where are you going to stay? They’re not going to let anyone back into the building until it’s safe. Where will you go?”

“I’m sure Sam will let me stay.”

I nodded. “I’m so sorry, Carla. I feel like this is all my fault.”

“Hey! We’ve had this conversation already,” she scolded me. “This isn’t your fault. It’s okay. I’m sure we’ll all be back in the apartment building soon.”

The sound of a throat being cleared caused me to look up, and I saw that a pair of policemen had arrived. “Could we take a statement from you now, Miss Dawson?”

“Yes.”

One of the policemen stayed standing. The other pulled up a chair and began to take notes. It was the first one who asked the questions. The other just wrote down my responses on a little notepad.

“Miss Dawson, can you describe to me what happened tonight? Start from earlier this evening. What were you doing before the fire?”

“I was with Carla.” I nodded towards Carla to identify her. “We were just sitting in her sitting room, having a drink and watching some TV.”

“And then?”

“I returned to my apartment. I called my boyfriend. I went to sleep.”

“And when did you first notice the fire?”

“I woke up to smoke. I called 911. I followed the operator’s instructions until help arrived.”

“And you have reason to suspect that this incident was caused by an ex, is that it?” The officer turned to his partner to confirm that he was speaking correctly. Then he turned back to me. “It was you who got in touch to say that you suspect this is arson.”

“That’s right. I’ve been receiving notes from my ex-boyfriend, Victor. I moved from Pennsylvania when we broke up, but he’s managed to find me somehow. He’s been stalking me. So far, he’s left two notes in my PO box. One was about how he’d found my PO box, and was going to find me. The other was just a sentence about how he’d been watching me on a night out.” I shuddered. “I showed the notes to the officers at the station when I got my restraining order against Victor transferred to here.”

“We’re going to need to see those notes again, Miss Dawson.”

“They were in my apartment.”

The two officers exchanged glances, and the first one spoke again. “Apart from these notes, do you have any other reason to suspect that this fire was not an accident?”

“I smelled gasoline.”

The second officer quickly scribbled this down.

The officers asked a few more questions about Victor, the fire, and my suspicions. They asked for a description of Victor. I was able to show them a picture of him on my cell, which I’d still had in my hand when I’d climbed out the window. The second officer wrote everything down, and the policemen told me they’d be in touch if they had any more questions.

As they went to leave, Carla spoke up. “Hey! Aren’t you going to do something to protect her?”

“I’m sorry?”

“What are you going to do to protect Jenna? Her ex has already set her apartment on fire. Shouldn’t someone be watching her? Looking out for him?”

“We don’t know anything at this point. There are alternatives to explore.”

“Okay, you’ve got to look at all possibilities; I understand. But let’s just say that this whole thing is as obvious as it seems. What are you going to do to protect her?”

The first officer listened to Carla and then nodded. He turned over his shoulder to talk to his partner. “Bill, make a note to arrange for a protective detail for Miss Dawson.” He turned back to me. “Ma’am, if you could kindly contact the station when you know where you will be staying, we will arrange for an officer to stop by regularly. How does that sound?”

I smiled gratefully and nodded. “Thank you.”

“We will be in touch.”

The officers left, and I felt a huge tangle of nerves churning inside me. I’d just given Victor’s details to the police, and now I had to put my faith in the system to do its job. It hadn’t worked for me before, but I had to take another leap of faith if I wanted to protect this new life I’d built for myself. The only other option was to run away, and I refused to run again.

Carla gave my shoulder a rub. “You did good, honey. They’ll go and do their jobs now. They’ll find him.”

“Let’s hope.”

“God, I can’t wait for the boys to get here. I hope they’re both okay.” She let out a long breath and turned to me. “Will you stay with Nate?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Why not? That’ll be the first thing he suggests.”

“I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t put him or Harriet in harm’s way. Not when I know Victor’s watching, and that he’s dangerous.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

I looked at her and held my hands up helplessly. “I don’t know.”