10
FIRE.
Everything was on fire. The stone walls, the marble floor.
A woman sat in the middle of the room, hands tied to the back of her chair.
Her voice rasped in an eerie whisper, the pained words just outside my hearing. An orange glow bathed her face, which glistened with sweat.
I stood at the door, stroked by a breeze of cool air. I could run to safety, but I couldn’t leave her behind. I wanted to scream, Inaru! but my voice wouldn’t work. The flames licked the legs of the chair, crawling up her feet. Inaru!
I reached out for her . . . and hit my hand on something.
Ouch . . . What the f**k?
A sweaty sheet wrapped around my shoulders.
A crumpled pillow.
I blinked against the glare of light to my left. A triangular window. Thin curtains. Benches along whitewashed walls. There
