We reach the shore, the frozen lake already reflecting the eerie glow of the fire. The sky turned the color of blood, of smoke. Of not enough time.

The four of us exchange a quick look, but no one speaks. Even Rhett looks as mute as a tomb.

Jasper is dead—a death none of us will be able to explain.

“The fire’s moving too fast,” Lin says. He pushes back the hood of his coat and I see his full head, his shorn hair, for the first time. The air finally hot enough that he doesn’t need his hood. Ahead of us, the trees are already beginning to burn on all sides of the lake. There’s no time. Lin looks to me and then Suzy, his breathing ragged, and says, “Good luck.”

I nod to him, understanding what he means: We’re each on our own now. We’ve reached the lake, and now we each make our own path. So run.

Rhett breaks away first, turning west toward the boys’ camp. And shortly after, Lin follows, two figures sprinting around the lake as the trees catch flame only a few yards away, closing in.

Suzy looks unsure, like she doesn’t know where to go. Who to follow. Which fate she will choose—with me, or the boys back at camp.

“Come on,” I say, when her eyes start to water, when she looks like she might sink down into the snow and give up. I grab her hand and she looks relieved.

Together, we hurry toward my house.

The fire hasn’t reached the row of summer homes yet, but it’s growing closer, devouring the forest along the shore. It’s only a matter of time.

We sprint through the pines, and before I’ve even climbed the porch steps, I see that the door has swung open, slapping back against the wall. It was never fully shut when Jasper closed it—the knob and hinges broken. And now Fin is gone.

I yell into the trees, calling out for him—my heart beating too fast, my throat gone dry—but he doesn’t come. He’ll be okay, I tell myself, my eyes starting to sting with the threat of tears. He knows the forest. He’ll outrun the fire, he’ll escape these woods long before we do.

I glance back into my home—my thoughts swimming and colliding like honeybees when they’re drunk on their own nectar. Unable to focus. What should I grab? What should I take?

“Let’s go,” Suzy urges behind me, tugging on my sleeve. “There’s no time.”

Across the lake, I can just see the boys beginning to flee their cabins, running around the shore, heading for the road. Behind my house, the flames have started moving down the hillside—the fire got here faster than I thought.