Chapter 7 - THE SMELL OF GASOLINE
“He’s burning the building!” I screamed, grabbing Leo and pulling him to my chest.
Adrian threw his shoulder against the heavy hatch, the wood splintering but refusing to give. Smoke began to curl down the staircase, stinging our eyes.
Rosa coughed, sinking onto the bottom step. “The... old coal chute.”
She pointed her cane toward the back corner of the basement, hidden behind stacks of empty flour sacks. I handed Leo to Adrian and ran to the corner, frantically tossing the heavy canvas bags aside. Behind them was a small, iron door embedded in the foundation.
“It’s rusted shut!” I cried, pulling at the latch.
Adrian handed the children to me and stepped up to the chute. With a roar of pure adrenaline, he kicked the iron handle. It bent. He kicked it again, and the latch shattered. The door swung open, revealing a narrow tunnel leading to the alleyway above.
“Go! Get them out!” Adrian yelled, pushing me toward the opening.
I scrambled up the chute, pulling Lily and Leo up into the freezing night air. We collapsed in the dirty alley, gasping for breath. I reached back down, grabbing Rosa’s arms as Adrian hoisted her from below. With a final heave, Rosa was safe.
Adrian climbed out just as the main floor of the bakery erupted into flames. The shockwave knocked us to the ground.
We sat in the alley, watching forty-three years of DeLuca family history burn against the Chicago skyline.
Rosa wept silently, clutching Lily. Adrian wrapped his arms around his mother and his children.
Then, out of the shadows of the alley, a slow clapping broke the silence.
May you like
Arthur Vance stepped into the streetlights, holding a lighter in one hand and Elias’s partnership agreement in the other.
“A touching family reunion,” Arthur sneered. “But I still win.”
