“Yudi,” he gasps out. He can’t find Yudi when he reaches for him. Everything around him is fire and black smoke, acrid and deadly
The desk burns like an effigy, like a Lag B’omer bonfire gone horribly wrong. Naftali is closer than he’s ever been to a fire, and it’s so much hotter than he’d imagined. He is gagging, bent over and stumbling as he tries to take action.
They have to escape. They have to call for help. They have to—
“Yudi,” he gasps out. He can’t find Yudi when he reaches for him. Everything around him is fire and black smoke, acrid and deadly, and he can only see shadows moving in the room. A large figure looms in the smoke, making its way to him.
It isn’t Yudi. It’s Eliezer, moving with determination, his jacket pressed to his mouth to filter out the smoke. The rage is gone from his face. Instead, he looks terrified, eyes flickering over Naftali as he seizes his hand. He tugs at him as if they’re still little boys — Naftali’s older brother running into a fire to pull him to safety — and Naftali wants nothing more than to follow him out.
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