Only smoke.
People pushing.
A narrow strip of light ahead.
The boy pressed his cheek against her shoulder.
She held the coat tightly around him.
Then, behind her, came a terrible cracking sound.
A crash.
The floor shook beneath her feet.
Grandma stumbled.
For one awful second, she thought they would fall.
But somebody grabbed her arm.
A firefighter.
He pulled them through the doors.
Outside, cold air struck her face.
She dropped to her knees.
The boy was still coughing.
Still breathing.
A paramedic took him from her arms.
And pulled the green coat away to check his breathing.
It fell beside Grandma’s knees.
Grandma tried to stand.
“The mother,” she gasped. “There’s a woman inside.”
The firefighter held her back.
“You can’t go in.”
“I promised her!”
Another crash came from inside.
Smoke poured through the broken windows.
Grandma watched firefighters disappear into it.
Then someone guided her away from the entrance.
