Chapter 5

During afternoon history class, a violent rainstorm started outside.

Rumbling thunder shook the windows.

I was most afraid of thunder.

Ten years ago, that fire had also happened on a stormy night.

That old warehouse struck by lightning, the burning beams, and the teenager who carried me on his back, step by step, climbing out of the inferno.

I'd always thought it was Robert.

Because when I woke up, Robert was lying on the emergency stretcher next to me, clutching one of my sneakers.

So I'd spent ten years repaying that debt, living as his appendage.

Crack.

The classroom lights suddenly flickered a few times, then went out completely.

Power outage.

The previously quiet classroom instantly erupted.

People shrieked, others made noise, and some threw paper balls in the darkness.

Alice screamed. "Robert, I'm scared!"

"Don't be afraid, I'm here."

Robert's voice rang out nearby, followed by the sound of tables and chairs colliding. He'd probably rushed over to protect Alice immediately.

And me-I sat frozen in the darkness, ice cold all over.

Memories of that fire revived in the dark.

Smoke, suffocation, burning sensations...

My breathing became rapid, my hands and feet convulsed uncontrollably, my throat making a rattling sound.

Help.

Someone help me.

Around me was a jostling crowd. Someone bumped into my desk, knocking my water cup to the floor with a crisp shattering sound.

Fear washed over me like a tide.

Just as I thought I would suffocate to death.

A hand reached through the chaotic crowd and gripped my wrist with unerring accuracy.

That hand was large, the palm rough, with thin calluses, and most importantly-

Scorching hot.

Like a mobile little furnace, instantly dispelling the chill surrounding me.

"Stop shaking."

A familiar voice sounded by my ear, kept very low so only I could hear.

Daniel had squeezed to my side at some point.

He didn't hug me-there were too many people around, and the teacher was maintaining order.

He just used that almost forceful stance to block me in the corner, using his body to shield me from all the pushing and shoving outside.

That hand slid down my wrist and tightly interlaced with my fingers.

Fingers intertwined.

His thumb gently rubbed the back of my hand, over and over, with a clumsy, comforting intent.

"Breathe in... breathe out..."

He guided my breathing rhythm in the darkness.

The motor oil smell had been replaced by a very faint scent of mint tobacco.

That was his scent.

Like a drowning person grabbing driftwood, I squeezed his hand back tightly, my nails almost digging into his flesh.

He didn't dodge, didn't even make a sound.

I don't know how long it lasted-maybe just a few minutes, maybe a century.

"Power's back!"

Someone cheered.

The second before the lights came on.

Daniel quickly released my hand.

By the time I'd adjusted to the harsh light and turned to look.

He'd already returned to his corner seat, supporting his head with one hand, looking out the window at the rain with annoyance, as if everything that just happened was my hallucination.

Only that hand hanging at his side was still slightly clenched in a fist, with several deep nail marks on the back, blood seeping out.

My heart trembled.

In the front row, Robert was draping his jacket over Alice, asking after her with concern.

He glanced back at me, seemingly wanting to confirm whether I'd had an embarrassing episode.

Seeing me sitting there safely, even twirling a pen, a flash of confusion and disappointment crossed his eyes.

"Tough to kill."

I understood his look.