Page 132 of One Last Promise

Smoke crept up the upper floors. The entire house wasn’t burning yet, but certainly, these open-concept homes filled with smoke fast.

Hiding them.

Maybe this was God, on their side, just like Moose had said.

“Hazel—” She opened the closet—nothing. Then looked again in the bathroom.

Please let Hazel have evacuated. Tillie ran to the end of the house and looked down.

Street light brightened the entire yard, and in the distance, red lights evidenced help on the way, sirens pealing down a nearby street.

In the middle of it all, shouting, holding one of his sons, stood Rigger, his white shirt grimy, pointing at the house.

She also spotted Courtney and their other son, which meant?—

She ran back to the room. “Hazel! I know you’re here.”

And then she spotted Hazel’s pink cowboy boots, poking out from under the curtain.

She pulled it back, and Hazel stood there, her hands over hermouth, her eyes wide.

Then, “Mommy!” She launched into Tillie’s arms, her skinny arms encasing Tillie’s neck, her legs around her waist, and Tillie scooped her up, pulling her tight, breathing her in. Hazel felt so small and broken and . . . “I’m sorry, Hazelnut. I’m so sorry.”

“I was so scared, and then that man—he makes me call him Daddy.” Hazel leaned back. “I hate him. He’s so mean, and—please, he’s not my daddy, right?”

Oh, Hazel. “Let’s get out of here.” Tillie turned and headed for the door, out into the hallway.

And that’s when she heard Rigger shout. How he’d gotten to the second-story master, she couldn’t guess—except, he’d taught her some of those parkour skills, so?—

He came running down the hallway, swearing at her, and she took off toward the stairs to the third story. She put Hazel down at the steps and grabbed her hand. “Run!”

No railing, just a set of steps, and it led to more bedrooms and another jutting deck. She ran out to the deck, refusing to look behind her, and hit the railing made of glass.

Three stories down, smoke obscuring the landing.

If she were alone, she’d chance it. But even if Hazel held on, the jar of their landing would throw her off.

The pool might cushion them, but again, Hazel. And she couldn’t really see the pool anyway.

She looked up.The roof.

“C’mere, Hazel. Put your foot here.” She held out her folded hands.

“Mom—”

“Do it!”

Hazel put her foot in Tillie’s hands. “I’m scared!” She put her hands on Tillie’s shoulders.

“I know. But have faith. It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Shemet Hazel’s eyes.

“‘Tillie will call on me, and I will answer her, I will be with her in trouble.’”

“God, help me!”She hoisted Hazel up, nearly catapulting her onto the roof. Hazel clung to the edge, kicking. Tillie grabbed at Hazel’s feet, pushing. “Pull yourself up!”

The tackle hit Tillie without defense, middle body, slamming her against the glass wall railing of the deck. She hit so hard she lay there gasping, everything burning, trying to clear her head.

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