This isn’t what happened. He had been in his bedroom with Mimi’s protective arms around him, window flung open so they could breathe. Ima had paced back and forth with Nachi as they waited for the firemen to come. There had been no fire in the room, just a hot doorknob and smoke wafting through the air, and Sruly had been afraid but also okay, because they’d all been together. Safe, with smoke rising around him.
He doesn’t feel safe in his dreams. He feels small. The fire is a monstrous dragon, whirling around him with glittering, poisonous scales. Mimi is behind the flames, her hands turning black and blistered as she reaches to him, and Nachi is calling him through the thunderous crackling. And Ima….
Ima’s hand lands on his arm, gentle and warm, soothing every spot where the fire touches. Sruly gulps — he can breathe now, can taste clear oxygen whooshing in — and Ima stands close, laying her head against his shoulder, until Sruly’s eyes open at last.
He isn’t in their old house. He’s in the Reichs’ carriage house, where they’ve been living for the past three months. There is no fire here. There is only Ima, sitting on his bed with her hand on his arm. Sruly sits up and burrows into her arms, willing away the horrible dream.
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