Fire: Chicago 1871 by Kathleen Duey

from beneath a pot of geraniums, and Nate waited as she unlocked the doors and swung them open.
    He stood at the threshold as Julie ran across the stone-floored entryway, then disappeared up a carpeted stairway. He could hear her calling for her parents, could hear the rising panic in her voice. When she came back down, her face was streaked with tears. She carried a sheet of white paper in one hand.
    â€œMy parents are gone,” she told him, lifting the paper so that he could see the even, bold script as she began to read aloud in a hoarse, rasping voice.
    â€œâ€Šâ€˜Dearest Julie, my greatest fear is that you are lost to us. My greatest hope is that you are not. If you make it to the house and the fire is not too close, stay here. I will come for you as soon as your mother is safe at your uncle Jack’s. I have left money if you need it to hire a carriageor other aid. There is water and food in the kitchen. I pray to God that you are safe.’ ”
    Julie held out a bank note. Nate could see that her hand was shaking.
    â€œJulie,” Nate began. His throat ached, and he swallowed painfully. “Is there water?”
    She seemed startled, then apologized, turning down a hallway that led past the stairs. He followed a few steps, then stopped. The carpets were beautiful, with intricate patterns. His shoes were filthy.
    Julie came back toward him carrying two glasses full of water and handed him one. He drank greedily as she spoke. “The spigot isn’t working. Father left a pail by the washbasin. He must have thought that—”
    â€œIs there more?” Nate interrupted her. His throat was so raw that the cool water had been like heaven as it slid down. Julie motioned for him to follow her, and he stepped carefully across the carpets.
    It felt strange to be out of the wind, to stand still. Nate filled and refilled his glass, drinking fast. It was unnaturally hot, but standing in the clean, spacious kitchen, it was almost possible to forget the fire for an instant.
    The sound of the crowd outside was muted through the heat-cracked windows. To the west, Nate could see a stable; it looked askew through the shattered glass.
    â€œI should wait here for my father,” Julie said. There was a note of uncertainty in her voice.
    Nate could see the fear in Julie’s eyes. “If it was safe here, they wouldn’t have left. Julie, the fire is close .” He waited until she met his eyes. “We’ll get back across the river and find my aunt. With any luck, the fire won’t spread up that way.”
    Julie wiped at her face, leaving black streaks on her cheeks. “What if we can’t get back across? Nate, for all we know, your aunt has already left too. Maybe your boardinghouse is gone by now.” Her voice was small, rising and falling with each breath. “And the lake is right here.”
    Nate shrugged. “You can stay, but I don’t have a choice, Julie. I have to get home. If you come with me, I’ll help you get to your uncle’s place once I know Aunt Ruth is all right.”
    A rolling crash made them both spin around, facing the west window. A rising cloud of smoke and dust obscured some of the flames for a moment.“The buildings are all crumbling under the heat.” Julie’s voice seemed a little steadier.
    â€œWe should leave now,” Nate said, feeling incredibly tired. He looked into Julie’s frightened eyes. “You could go straight to the lake.” He hesitated, trying to think clearly. “It might be smarter, Julie.” A second rolling shudder passed through the ground. Another big building had fallen.
    Julie shook her head. “I’ll go with you. I know where Father keeps his hunting gear. He has a canteen.”
    Nate nodded and pointed at the stables. “Is that your father’s?”
    â€œYes,” Julie said. “But he might not have left the horses behind if he thought it was going