I sat in the living room on the old sofa set Peggy had shipped down for me with Ty tucked against my side, holding the note.

Tabitha had slipped it into my handbag in the restaurant, or that was what I’d assumed, since I’d found it there after I’d gotten home and dug around for my cell inside my purse. Peggy was due to call me in a minute for a check-in, both about her pregnancy and my budding relationship with Mason, but I couldn’t stop reading and rereading the note.

You’d better back up because I’m watching you. If you don’t you’ll pay for it in ways you’ve only seen in your nitemares.

She’d spelled the word “nightmares” wrong, which kind of took the threat out of the note. I allowed myself a small smile, balled it up, and tossed it across the room, still stroking Ty’s soft, velvety ears.

I had about three hours to kill before my romantic celebration over at Mason’s house, and no amount of lame notes from Miss Drama Queen would dampen my mood. She was clearly threatened and jealous—it kinda made me glad, in a way, because it meant that she saw what I felt.

Mason was into me in a big way.

“Easy,” I whispered. “Easy.”

Ty gave a cute little puppy groan and wagged his tail, half asleep. I’d tired him out by playing catch in the yard and enjoyed every second of it. How was it possible that everything could be so perfect right now?

When I’d arrived in Stoneport, I’d been in the worst place, mentally. I’d been alone, emotionally bruised after Kieran’s betrayal, but determined to do the right thing, even though I’d had no prospects and nothing but my savings to drive this project—fix up the house, maybe make something out of it.

Now? Every minute was unbelievable. And it’s all thanks to Doctor Dunn.

My phone buzzed on the sofa next to me, and I lifted it, smiling at my sister’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hey, sis.”

“Hey, girl, how are you today?” Peggy asked.

“I’m pretty damn good,” I replied, grinning from ear to ear. I filled her in on everything that’d happened over the past couple days—quitting at the doctor’s office and finding a job at Betsy’s Place, as well as all the good stuff happening with Mason.

“Oh, that makes me so happy,” Peggy sighed. “See? I told you it was the right decision to go out with him. That kind of opportunity doesn’t just fall into a woman’s lap every day. If he’s as hot and sweet as you make him out to be, the man is a catch.”

“Don’t start,” I said, but grinned. “We’re still just enjoying ourselves.” My grin faded as my stomach bubbled. I pressed a hand to it and swallowed hard—nausea swam in my belly and up my throat, but I held it at bay. I’d been super stressed about everything lately, and whenever that happened, this was the result. I cleared my throat and forced myself to focus on Peg rather than the impending vom-fest. “What about you, sis? How’s the pregnancy going?”

“Entering the second trimester now,” Peggy said, “which is supposed to be the best pregnancy time because you’re not nauseated anymore, and the hormones aren’t as crazy. That’s what the internet says, anyway. Further proof that you shouldn’t believe everything you read on the internet.”

“It’s bad?”

“Baby girl, about five minutes before I called you, Dave opened a jar of pickles in the kitchen, and I smelled it upstairs in my fucking bedroom. I threw up about two days’ worth of food. No shit.”

“There’s an image,” I said and gulped down my own nausea. This wasn’t exactly helping me with my current situation. “What about the other parts of it? Do you have any weird cravings? Other than pepperoni and anchovies on pizza.”

“Corn with melted chocolate,” Peggy replied, and slurped back saliva. “Oh my god, I just said that, and I nearly drooled everywhere. And salt and vinegar chips. So fucking good.”

“Easy. Easy. You’re starting to worry me.”

“Ha, whatever. You’ll realize I’m not crazy when you have a little poop machine of your own one day.”

“First off, I’m nowhere near ready for that kind of responsibility. I can barely fix up my house and my life as it is. And secondly, poop machine? Really?”

Peg laughed. “Oh honey, you know it’s basically shit and milk the first three months. They’re just sacks of human skin until then. I mean, loveable sacks of human skin, but they can’t even see properly that whole time. And they’re just crying all the time.” Peg sniffed. Was she crying?

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing. I guess I’m just nervous about what’s to come. You know how Mom was when I was little.”

“I know,” I said. “But I don’t think you should worry about that. You’re not Mom. You won’t be like her, OK?”

A long silence followed. “How can you possibly know that? What if I’m exactly like her?”

“That won’t happen. Mom was sick, Peggy. It was clear she was sick long before she had us. All that stuff that came after was a result of that. It’s not in you, sister. You’re healthy.”

Peggy sniffled down the line. “I’m sorry. I can’t stop crying lately. I don’t know what’s going on with me.”

“Ha, I think I do,” I replied, and we shared a chuckle over it.

“Thanks, Becky. I don’t think I could do this without you. Dave’s amazing, of course, but it’s different talking to him than it is to you. He doesn’t have a vagina.”

“Yeah, and if he did, you probably wouldn’t be in this situation,” I replied.

She laughed again, and this one sounded genuinely happy. “See? There. I’m fine again. No more negative thoughts about…”

“Let’s forget it,” I said and sat back on the sofa, still stroking Ty. “I’ll come visit you in a week or two after I’ve gotten settled into work and have saved up some cash. We can stay up late eating weird stuff.”

“As long as you stay away from my chocolate corn.”

“Honey, you’ll have to eat it in a different room than me,” I said. “I think you’re fine. Kisses.”

“Kisses,” Peggy said, then hung up.

I put my cell down on the sofa again, smiling, though my bubbly stomach still hadn’t settled down. Maybe it was something I’d eaten at Betsy’s. That lasagna had been absolutely delicious but pretty rich too. I swallowed and shut my eyes, resting my head on the sofa’s cushiony top.

Ty gave a little puppy whine-snore next to me, and I kept stroking him, thoughts turning to what Peggy had said about Mom.

Mom who’d had postpartum depression and struggled terribly. Mom who’d left us when we were young. Left us with a father who’d loved us dearly, but who’d ultimately become bitter and detached because of heartbreak.

Taking a chance with Kieran had been a difficult thing for me to do. After all, how did I know he wouldn’t end up leaving like my mother had? And then…he had. And everything had gone to hell, and now I was on the path to doing it all over again.

Was I stupid? Was everything happening with Mason totally fake, and I just couldn’t see it?

“Stop,” I muttered and slowed my breathing. “Just stop it.” I didn’t have to doubt this anymore. Things were simplifying. Mason had started showing me more and more of himself over the past four weeks, and I trusted him.

It was instinct. He wouldn’t hurt me intentionally. He wouldn’t lie.

I caught the scent of a barbeque in the distance, eyes still closed, and grinned. Perhaps that was the surprise. A barbeque night under the stars with wine and candles, and Ty for company. And then…

My nose wrinkled up as the scent thickened. Not the smell of cooking meat but wood burning.

A crackle, followed by a loud pop, rang through the house. My eyes snapped open and teared up, immediately.

Thick smoke drifted into the living room from the hall. It was acrid, dark, and definitely not from a fucking barbeque.

“Fire!” I yelped, lamely. “Fire! Fire!” I snatched up Ty from the sofa and cradled him against my chest, shoving his nose into the fabric of my blouse. He barked at the disturbance, then sneezed at the smell. I sprang to my feet, covering my mouth and nose with one hand, and ran for the front door.

I grabbed the handle and turned it, but it was locked. Impossible. I hadn’t locked it on my way in. In fact, I’d left it open so Ty could run in and out to the front yard at will, in case he needed the puppy bathroom.

“What the fuck?” I coughed and rattled on the doorknob then slipped my fingers down to the keyhole. It was empty. The keys I’d left there were gone.

I turned sideways fast and knocked my hip into the entrance table. Pain sprouted in my side, but I ignored it, reaching instead for my purse. I tipped it over and poured the contents onto the table. Tampons, lipstick, receipts, and my wallet poured out and bounced off the table.

The keys were gone.

Ty barked and struggled. I stroked him, pressing his head against my shirt. “It’s OK,” I managed, sputtering out coughs now.

The thick smoke poured from the doorway at the end of the hall. The kitchen.

Christ. Again. It was happening again. This was…

My memory brought me back in time to the night at the restaurant, to the moment I’d discovered I was locked inside and—

“No,” I coughed and forced my legs to work. “No. No.” I hacked and stumbled back through to the living room, eyes burning like they’d been set on fire. This wasn’t happening. I wouldn’t let it happen, and I wouldn’t succumb to the fear of it again.

I made for the sofa, but the smoke was everywhere, fast filling the house, choking me. Choking Ty.

Ty. No!

I forced myself toward the end of the room, shifting my hand from my mouth and nose, and pressing it out straight, feeling for anything. Something. My phone! My phone’s on the sofa. But even if I reached it now and called the fire department, they likely wouldn’t have enough time to get here and inside before…

Another thought I forced aside.

My hand connected with something cold and flat. I brought myself forward, forcing my eyes open all the way, Ty growling and barking in my arms. A smoky view of the front garden waxed—it was the window. I’d reached the window.

“Hang on, Ty,” I choked and fumbled with the window latch. It jammed, and I cursed, straining my arm against it. No. No fucking way, universe. This window is fucking opening, and that’s all there is to it. I won’t die like this. I rammed my fist against the latch, letting out a feral shriek, which brought on a volley of barks from Ty, then tugged on the latch again. It slipped up.

Relief doused my fear. I slammed the sash window up, and smoke billowed out into the garden, fighting against the instreaming clean air.

I lifted Ty through the gap and set him down outside, tears blinding my view of him and the garden now, praying that I’d let him down softly enough. He barked frantically below me, and I looped one leg through the open space, straddling the windowsill.

I’m coming, Ty.

I moved to get out at last, ducking my head low, but not low enough. A terrific crack rang out, and pain sprouted in my temple. Gray specks danced in front of my eyes. I fell, sideways, back into the house, Ty’s barking ringing in my ears.

“Help,” I managed, before the speckles of shimmering gray turned black.