Page 116 of Beautiful Defiance

“Yes,” I admit. “Sorrow needs a lifeline. A way to get you help.” Sorrow would never have the nerve to ask her father for a cellphone.

“We don’t need you meddling in our lives.”

“Sorrow needs friends and a life of her own. You can’t keep punishing her for something she isn’t responsible for. Your wife was deeply depressed. You need help with your drinking. Please. I can help you and Sorrow.”

“We don’t need your goddamn help! We were fine before you broke into our place.”

“I didn’t break in. I heard Sorrow crying. She let me in. We talked.”

The fire is burning faster and hotter on the other side of the door. We’re in a different room of the house. What used to be an office before it was gutted and emptied of every piece of furniture. There is nothing in here but moving boxes.

“Please, Mr. Sophia, we need to call 911.”

“You ain’t calling anyone. Open the damn door.”

“The fire—”

“Open the damn door!”

I can’t. If I do, it’ll be the death of us.

“No.”

“What did you say?”

“No. You will hand over your gun and get yourself help. You owe Sorrow that. You took away three years of her life.”

Sorrow’s dad told everyone Sorrow ran away.

Pissed at him for the lie and sad for Sorrow, I shove my elbow into his gut and come down hard on his shin with the point of my high-heel shoe.

He cries out. I pivot and pull back my arm, ready to nail him again. Something hard jams into the side of my head. A cracking sound fills my ears. My world spins. I crash to the ground.

“Leigh! Leigh!”

Sorrow’s voice comes to me as though from a distance.

Dazed, I blink and stare up at the white ceiling. Heat sears one side of my body. Groaning, I glance off to the side. The office door is open. Sorrow and her dad are in the middle of the burning room. I push onto my feet and stagger after them. He has a gun pointed at Sorrow’s head. Oh, God, it was my fault. I gave her the phone. My fault that he found out and is so angry.

I can’t let it end like this. I take a step, and another.

“Please, let her go. Hurt me instead.”

I stretch out my hands, palms up, imploring, begging him to let her go. Tears blur my vision.

“No one needs to know what happened here. It’ll be our secret. Please. She’s my friend.”

Something in him changes. The craze in his eyes fades, the haze of his drunkenness and his high momentarily replaced with clarity.

“You’ll make sure she’s taken care of?”

“Yes.” I step closer. He backs up toward the flames.

“Leigh! Leigh, are you in there?”

Seven? And there are sirens and commotion on the other side of the front door. Over Sorrow’s dad’s shoulders, I see my guy. The look of sheer horror and panic on his face.

Sorrow’s dad raises the shotgun, drawing my attention back to him and Sorrow. This is it. This is it. Uttering a wish and a prayer that we make it out of this alive, I charge him the same time Sorrow twists out of his hold.

“I love you, Sorrow. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Take care of her, Leigh.”

The gun goes off. Mr. Sophia tips to the side and crumples to the floor. The roof caves in, the fire having started on the top floor. I reach for Sorrow. She puts her hand in mine. We close our eyes. The heat is unbearable. I choke on the smoke. This is it. Eighteen years of living going up in flames and smoke.

Robbed of breath, my lungs filling with smoke, I close my eyes and give in to the darkness.

---