Charlotte walked through the streets until she got to 12th street. She walked up the steps of the Elizabeth Home for Girls and opened the door.

Inside to the left was a counter with an older woman with a tight bun and glasses resting on the tip of her nose sitting in front of a ledger.

"Excuse me?" Charlotte asked.

The woman set her pencil down and looked up. "Yes?"

"I'm looking for Adelaide Taylor."

The woman checked the ledger. "Yes, she signed in a little while ago."

"May I?" Charlotte gestured up the stairs.

The woman nodded and waved her on. "Second floor, first door on the left.

Charlotte walked up the stairs. She slowly opened the door the matron had indicated and saw a room lined with bunks, six on each side. It was relatively void of people except for two figures sitting on a bed. The taller one had her arm around the younger one, and they were engaged in quiet conversation.

Charlotte politely cleared her throat and Adelaide and Emma turned around.

"Charlotte," Adelaide smiled, turning around on the bed.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," said Charlotte.

"Not at all," said Adelaide, waving her over. "Come have a seat. We were just having a girl chat."

"Anything good?" Charlotte asked, walking over and sitting on the bunk next to theirs.

Adelaide smirked. "The usual Girl Talk," she said in a significant tone.

Charlotte nodded, understanding. She looked at Emma. "How'd that go?"

Emma screwed up her face in disgust. Adelaide and Charlotte chuckled.

"What brings you around here?"

Charlotte sighed. "Trouble at home."

"Spot?"

Charlotte nodded. "They're mad because I'm out with Spot a lot. But it's my summer break. Who cares if I'm out late? Spot and I were apart for almost ten years - that's a lot of catching up to do! And what's worse is my aunt, uncle, and David were all ganging up on me about it. It's ridiculous!"

Adelaide opened her mouth to say something, but opted to stay silent.

"What?" asked Charlotte. Adelaide shook her head. "No, please, Aide."

"I was just going to say…they all care about you. They're not talking to you like that because they hate Spot. As far as you've told me, your aunt and uncle haven't even met him."

Charlotte sighed. "I just wish they were happy that I'm happy."

"I'm sure they are. They don't want to see you miserable." Adelaide hesitated. "And even though I can't relate completely to what you're going through, I can say that there's a lot to say about putting family first."

Charlotte sighed and rubbed her face. "I don't know what to do."

"You should go home to your family," said Emma.

Both Charlotte and Adelaide looked down at her.

"Even though you fight, they're the only family you have. They're the only people who will never leave you, no matter what happens." Emma leaned against Adelaide, resting her head against her shoulder.

Adelaide smiled and put her arm around the girl.

Charlotte smiled softly at the little girl. "You're right." She took a deep breath and sat up straight. "It's worth it to patch things up with Aunt Mae and Uncle Ben."

Adelaide grinned at her. "Good choice."

Just then, they heard the ringing bell and siren of the fire engines. The three girls stood up and looked out the window onto the street just in time to see the engine go racing by.

"A fire will make for a good headline tomorrow, Em," said Adelaide.

Charlotte looked out over the rooftops and saw an orange glow in the direction of Mae and Ben's house.

"I gotta go," she said, running out of the room and down the stairs.


Charlotte ran through the streets, her heart pounding, praying that she misjudged where the fire was. She turned the corner and her heart leaped to her throat. Her entire block was in flames. Her hands flew to her mouth, her eyes stinging from the smoke and tears.

Her apartment building, along with the buildings on either side of it were in flames. The fire had spread through the bottoms floors first, and it was slowly spreading to the upper floors. Her eyes quickly found her living room window, and saw nothing but yellow and orange flames inside.

She looked over and saw a crowd gathered across the street from the buildings. She rushed over and began weaving her way through. "Aunt Mae! Uncle Ben!" she called. "Aunt Mae! Uncle Ben!"

"Hey, you looking for your family?" asked someone.

"Yeah." Charlotte turned toward the voice.

"They're setting up a shelter for all the survivors at the Presbyterian church on 12th Street."

"Thanks," said Charlotte. She weaved her way out of the crowd and ran down the streets once more, retracing her steps to 12th street.

She quickly found the church and burst through the front door. Everywhere, soot-covered people filled the pews, comforting and crying. A charity was already there handing out blankets and glasses of water. Charlotte walked down the aisle, frantically scanning the rows for a familiar face.

"Charlotte!"

Her head snapped forward and she saw David walking towards her. His clothes and face were covered with soot and sweat and his hair was everywhere.

"David!" She rushed toward him and hugged him. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"We don't know," he said. "We heard an explosion, and next thing we knew smoke was coming up from the ground floors."

"Where's Aunt Mae and Uncle Ben?" Charlotte looked around.

David swallowed and licked his lips. "I'm sorry, Charlotte." Charlotte looked at him. David shook his head. "They…they didn't make it."

Charlotte's face hardened. "What do you mean 'they didn't make it?'"

"I tried to get them out," he said. "But the fire moved so fast. The floor was on fire before I realized it. They were yelling at me to get out, and—"

"And you left them."

"Charlotte."

"You left them to die in that fire!" Several people turned their direction at her outburst.

"Charlotte, please."

Charlotte backed away from him. "No." She shook her head. Tears filled her eyes and she turned and walked back down the aisle.

"Charlotte, please," he said. "Come home with me. I'll bunk with Les and you and Sarah have have the bedroom to yourself."

"Leave me alone!" Charlotte yanked the church door open and walked out into the street.

Only when she was on the street and alone, did she allow the tears to fall. She hardly walked a block before she sat on a front stoop, put her face in her hands, and sobbed.

She sobbed for her loss, but mostly, she sobbed that her last interaction with Aunt Mae and Uncle Ben was a fight. Now they were gone. She would never be able to see them again; tell them how much she really did love them; tell them how much she wished she could've spent so much more time with them.

What was worse, the fight was about her not being home. If she had known the future, she would've forgotten about Spot and had spent all of her free time at home with them.

But it was too late.