Chapter 4

They hadn't made it twenty yards when the flames under the hood erupted, shooting two feet into the air. The car began to crackle and pop as the fire took hold. Intense heat radiated through the glass, blistering my skin. The sheer terror of dying washed over me, but a primal survival instinct sparked one last burst of energy.

"Help! Someone help me! It's on fire!" I shrieked.

I grabbed my phone and smashed it against the side window with everything I had. The screen shattered on impact, its sharp edges slicing my palm open. Blood streamed down my hand, but I couldn't feel a thing.

My desperate screams finally made Declan stop. He spun around, freezing the moment he saw the inferno my car had become.

But Maeve, standing right beside him, let out a shriek even louder than mine.

"Linnea! Are you setting off fireworks in there? It's so pretty, but it's dangerous!" she cried. "I know this car is supposed to be fireproof, but you can't play with fire just to get Declan's attention!"

"Fireworks?" Her absurd explanation clearly muddled Declan's mind. He probably thought a woman like Linnea would do absolutely anything to get her way.

"You're a psycho, Linnea!" he screamed at the burning wreck.

Inside, my relentless pounding finally paid off. A crack spiderwebbed across the window. A sliver of fresh air rushed in, and I pressed my face to the opening, gasping as my lungs screamed for oxygen.

But Maeve was faster. She ran to her car, popped the trunk, and pulled out a wide roll of clear packing tape. Sprinting back to my window, she slapped a long strip over the glass.

"Oh no, sis, you broke the window! That's so dangerous," she said, her voice dripping with fake concern. She expertly sealed the crack I had just made, pressing the tape down firmly with her palm to ensure not a single wisp of air could get through. "This is your car with Declan, you know. How could you be so selfish and just smash it up like that?"

"You—"

The precious mouthful of air I'd just inhaled caught in my throat. Black spots danced across my vision.

Declan, now seething, stormed over. "Have you had enough, Linnea?"

He snatched the tape from Maeve's hand. With eyes blazing in terrifying hatred, he began to wrap it around and around the crack, sealing it even tighter.

As I stared at his face—so familiar, yet so monstrously alien—my hand fell limp at my side.

My breathing grew shallow.