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| The fire was flashing across the ceiling now. She didn't have much time. One crib. Hurry up! No other child's bed. No crying. Hurry! It's hot! As far as she could see through the smoke, only girl- child toys in one age group-two soft dolls, one stuffed bear, a play muffin tin, and some plastic spoons. One child. Part of the ceiling fell. |
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| Taking a last breath of air from floor level, Figueroa jumped up and bolted for the front door. The living room was a hell of flame, and if she hadn't memorized where the door was, she would never have made it. Her hair was singed. She could not even see the man on the floor. He was dead, anyway, and she had to warn the upstairs neighbors. Outside, fire engines were fighting their way through streets blocked with stalled cars. They didn't arrive until ten minutes later. |
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