Chapter 7 - Trial by Fire
The heat washed over my face in a horrifying wave of déjà vu.
I was back in that burning house twelve years ago.
The smell of smoke filled my lungs.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't scream.
I was paralyzed by the trauma of my past.
Daniel left Mark on the floor and sprinted toward me.
He didn't hesitate for a single second.
He threw his tuxedo jacket over my burning lap.
He used his bare hands to smother the flames.
I could smell burning fabric and searing skin.
He beat the fire until nothing but thick smoke remained.
Daniel fell to his knees, gasping for air.
His hands were severely blistered and red.
He looked up at me with frantic, tear-filled eyes.
"I've got you, Sarah," he whispered.
Sirens wailed outside the heavy wooden doors.
Red and blue lights flashed through the stained-glass windows.
The FBI and the police had arrived.
Police officers battered the heavy doors open with a loud crash.
They flooded into the church with weapons drawn.
Mark and Emily were instantly slammed against the pews and handcuffed.
Linda just sat in the corner, sobbing into her hands.
Paramedics rushed into the room with a stretcher.
They carefully lifted me from my ruined wheelchair.
Daniel refused to leave my side.
He held my hand despite the agonizing burns on his palms.
"We need to get her to Charleston General right now," a paramedic shouted.
The ambulance ride felt like a chaotic blur of flashing lights.
When we arrived at the emergency room, doctors swarmed us.
They wheeled me into a trauma bay to assess my burns.
An older, distinguished doctor with gray hair walked into the room.
He looked down at my chart, then up at my scarred face.
His clipboard fell out of his hands and shattered on the floor.
He turned completely pale, trembling uncontrollably.
He looked at Margaret, who had just rushed into the room.
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"Where did you find this girl?" he choked out.
"That is my daughter."
