PROLOGUE
The little girl's long, white cotton nightie, the one with tiny embroidered pink rosebuds around the neck, rode up around her knees as urgent arms carried her out the front door, down the steps and across the lawn to safety near the street.
She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the surroundings but she could still smell the heavy smoke, still hear the hungry flames crackle as they devoured the wood frame house. The rapid beating of her mother's heart strummed against her tummy.
She was plunked down, the grass cold and damp against her bare feet. She opened her eyes to the darkness of the night, a strange, eerie dark that seemed alive as flames smashed through an upstairs window. Now that she felt safe it was kind of exciting. Then sudden panic clutched her six year old chest and she blurted out a name.
"Stay put! Be a good girl and don't move. You hear me? I'll be right back."
She shifted from foot to foot, shivering in the damp breeze. Why was Mommy taking so long?
The smoke grew thicker, making her eyes tear. In the distance she heard the scream of sirens approaching. She clung to her shabby teddy with the torn ear and, like a good girl, didn't move.
