Stellan had my shoulders. He was mouthing something I couldn’t hear. “What?” I said, and I couldn’t hear myself, either. The only sound in my ears was a ringing like a low bell. “Are you okay?” he mouthed. I nodded. “Are you?” Bits of glass made his hair sparkle, and he had a scrape across his left cheek. “I’m fine,” he said, and I heard it this time, as if from far away. Colette sat up slowly, and nodded when I asked her the same question.
I stood up. There was a beat of complete stillness, the whole red carpet frozen in place, like we’d been turned to stone. Beat. Mr. Frederick, slumped against a wall, glasses askew, holding his head. Beat. Miranda Cruz, the actress, blood running down her face and onto her white dress. Beat. A photographer crouched over his camera shattered on the ground, staring at the smoke from inside the building. Beat. I searched for Lydia—and she was gone. So was Cole.
And then everyone was running. Stellan and I fought the tide toward the building.
The closer we got to the theater, the more people we saw stumbling away or collapsed on the carpet, bloodied but alive. Thank God the event wasn’t inside. Stellan shoved open the door we’d seen Elodie go through, and thick dark smoke billowed out.
I choked, coughing into my elbow. “Elodie!” I screamed through the coughs.
A man in a tuxedo staggered out, his face in his elbow, followed by a security guard helping a woman walk.
“Is there anyone else?” I yelled. They didn’t even seem to hear me.
The smoke cleared enough to see flames licking up a wall inside. Stellan shuddered—I knew he didn’t like fire—but he said, “I’m going in. Stay here.”
Before I could protest, he took a deep breath and darted inside, and even though praying wasn’t usually my thing, I prayed that the fire-retardant skin we thought he had would keep him safe. And then I ran to another door and yanked at it until I was convinced it was locked. Around the far side was an unlocked door, but it was too dangerous to contemplate going inside. I screamed for Elodie and then propped it open with a loose brick just in case and ran back around the front.
Colette was waiting at the top of the stairs, people starting to gather around her. “Stellan!” I screamed in the open door. “Elodie!”
There was a flash of movement from behind the wall of smoke.
Figures appeared. As I watched, one of them fell.
I couldn’t just watch anymore. I pulled the neckline of my dress up to my face and darted inside. Stellan had his arm under Elodie, pulling her along, both of them stumbling. I grabbed Elodie from him. “Come on!” I screamed, and it sent me into a coughing fit.
From nowhere, arms reached over me, pulling Elodie to her feet. I stood up, wracked with coughs.
Jack?
He pulled off his jacket and threw it to me. “Put it over your face,” he said, then picked Elodie up and pushed me along in front of him, shoving me into a set of arms it took me a second to realize were Luc’s. Luc grabbed Stellan around the waist, too, and the three of us burst through the door.
The air was so cold and fresh, it burned my throat. Jack set Elodie down and rested his hands on his knees, breathing deep gulps of air. Elodie blinked her eyes open, choking, dazed. Stellan dropped to his knees, coughing.
I looked at Jack, my eyes burning so much, it was hard to see. “How did you know what was going on?”
Jack shook his head. “I didn’t. I was bringing you something. I’ve been working on it since we first found out about the Saxons. I told her to wait in the car. It’s too dangerous—”
A flash of blond hair flew through the crowd, and I really had to be hallucinating this time, because there was no way I was seeing this face here, now.
And then my mother swept me into her arms.
CHAPTER 32
Sirens descended on the theater from all directions. Elodie, her whole body covered in a layer of dark soot, hauled herself up and gestured to the rest of us to follow her.
I barely noticed. My mom and I had sunk to the steps, where the red carpet was now ashy gray. I couldn’t stop staring at her, like if I did, she might disappear. She was so thin and pale. She had a healing cut over one eye, and her hair was tangled and flat.
I was torn between wanting to kill Lydia and Cole for what they’d done, and wanting to throw myself into her arms and cry.
Like she’d read my mind, she pulled me to her. The stiff sleeves of my gown poked into her chest, but she just hugged me tighter. “We have to go,” she whispered. “While they’re distracted.”
I could see it. Me and my mom, jumping in a cab, crossing a border or two before we slowed down. Doing our best to leave the Circle behind forever without a word of good-bye. Despite everything I’d said earlier—even though it had all been true—having my mom here in front of me and knowing I could get her to safety for good nearly changed my mind.
But then I saw Stellan, draping a handkerchief over an ugly, blistering burn that covered the back of his hand.
Jack, sweaty and smeared with ash, his jacket still around my shoulders.
Elodie, clutching a small black purse across her body like it contained a treasure. I had a feeling it did.
And Lydia and Cole, nowhere to be seen. They must have gotten away before anyone could link them to the bombing.
“I can’t go yet,” I said to my mom.
She took my face in her hands. She looked resigned. “I had a feeling you might say that. Let’s go do what needs to be done.”
I gestured to everyone else, and we slipped away through the crowd.
• • •
We looked for our car, but the driver must have taken off after the bomb exploded. Since we’d arrived late, he was probably one of the only ones to get out before gridlock shut down the street. Unfortunately, he’d taken all our weapons with him, and we had nowhere to go.