"Aiden's gone," Will said when he arrived to pick me up from Daylesford Hall.

As it was Christmas Eve, Mr. Weston had sent everyone home early, which meant I'd finished cleaning by seven.

"What do you mean, gone? I only saw him yesterday."

He'd been leaving the kitchen on the ground floor. Aiden Rafferty was one of the few people who understood the concept of loading the dishwasher.

"His house is dark, his car's missing from the drive, and the lady next door said he'd asked her to feed his cat for a few days."

"Do you think he's running?"

"I don't know. Lloyd said Aiden's on annual leave until the new year, but he told the girl who sits next to him that he was spending Christmas at home on his own."

"Maybe he took a last-minute trip?" I asked as I climbed into the car. Will had swapped back to his own vehicle now, but the BMW was still a hundred times more luxurious than the bus.

"Maybe." Will didn't sound convinced.

"What else?"

"When I mentioned Aiden's name, Lloyd was more angry than surprised. Apparently, Aiden had a run-in with Anthony a couple of years back. A proper fist fight. They both accused the other of starting it."

"I'm surprised Aiden kept his job."

"Guess Lloyd understood how tempting it must have been to knock Anthony's front teeth loose. Son or not, the guy's a world-class prick."

Even with the heater on full blast, I still shivered at the memory of Anthony climbing past on the stairs soon after I started work. Although there'd been plenty of space, he'd pressed up against me on more than one occasion. Close enough for me to smell the alcohol on his breath, and close enough for me to feel his arousal. Pervert.

"Even so..."

"Aiden's been their best salesman since he joined. Guess Lloyd couldn't afford to let him go. But my contacts said there was no love lost between the pair of them."

"I guess he wouldn't have been too thrilled to hear that Aiden and Helene were having an affair."

"Especially with Derek lined up as his heir elect."

"So, what do we do now?"

"Enjoy Christmas. Weston Corp's closed until the twenty-seventh, and nobody'll want to answer questions about Aiden while they're opening presents and tucking into turkey."

"What are you doing for Christmas?" He'd mentioned he didn't see his family. "Are you spending it with RJ?"

"RJ gets summoned home every year. Kinda funny—he has to put on a suit and make small talk until his folks keel over from too much sherry."

"So you'll be on your own?"

"It's not that bad. I can get caught up on paperwork. Lloyd Weston wanted this case wrapped up by Christmas, and I'm already behind."

How could I enjoy dinner tomorrow thinking of Will alone at his computer? Especially when our tiny apartment would be full of festive music and too much food because Shannon loved roast potatoes and misjudged the quantities every single time she cooked.

"Why don't you eat with us? Shannon always makes plenty to spare."

Silence.

"I mean, you don't have to come for the whole day if you don't want to. Or we could parcel you up dinner. Does the pizza place even deliver on Christmas Day?"

He paused at a traffic light and turned to face me. Was it my imagination or were his eyes glistening?

"I'd love to spend Christmas Day with you and Shannon. And Aisling. The paperwork can wait until Boxing Day. Uh, I haven't bought any gifts."

"Doesn't matter. We don't go all-out for presents." I shrugged. "Money." Or rather, the lack of it.

Just Will's company would be enough.

***

Dinner with Will and Shannon was beginning to feel like the new normal. Shannon obviously thought so too because she'd even bought an extra chair, a giant wooden monstrosity upholstered in orange velour.

"It's only from the charity shop," she said. "But it's better than the fold-up one."

Her bigger seat meant Will needed to move closer to me, and our knees kept touching under the tiny table as we ate. Once, the contact would have put me off my food, but between the main course and dessert, I found myself shuffling a little nearer.

"Who's ready for afters?" Shannon asked once we'd cleared the crockery away.

"Afters?" Will asked. "We already had pudding."

She put an arm around his shoulders and steered him towards the sofa. "This is Christmas Eve, and the night is still young. It's time for everybody's favourite movie."

"Terminator?"

"The Sound of Music, dumbass."

Will glanced towards the door and shuffled a step in that direction. "I've never seen it."

Shannon's jaw dropped. "How can that be? It's a classic."

"Well, I haven't."

She grabbed his arm and tugged him back towards the sofa. "In that case, tonight's your lucky night. And because I'm such a good friend, I'll take the armchair so you can share the couch with Rania."

Only then did Will smile, and I couldn't help returning it. I'd never been a huge fan of that movie either, but watching it with Will? Maybe I'd discover a new-found appreciation.

Or maybe not.

When I woke up, the von Trapp family were walking into Switzerland, and I'd keeled over into Will's lap. Gentle fingers combed through my hair, pausing to brush a few strands out of my face. I stiffened, and Will's hand stilled, but when I forced myself to relax, he ran his thumb over my bottom lip.

"You look so peaceful when you're asleep," he whispered.

For once, he was right. Usually, the nightmares came, but this evening... I'd dreamed of nothing.

"I'm sorry I, uh, fell on you."

"I'm not. But unless you want to end up with a cricked neck by morning, we should probably get you to bed."

Over in the armchair, Shannon hadn't stayed awake either, probably because she knew every word in The Sound of Music by heart.

"We should wake Sleeping Beauty too," I said.

"Why ruin the fairy tale?"

Even as the words left Will's lips, hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I'd had the feeling many times before, that light tickle as if a spider were tippy-toeing over my skin. I brushed my hand across, just in case an eight-legged freak had decided to pay me a visit, but instead, I connected with Will's fingers.

"What's up, beautiful? You've gone all tense."

"I'm not sure."

The creepy feeling had come almost every night in Syria, but rarely in England.

"Is it me? Something I've done?"

"No." I sniffed the air. "Can you smell that?"

"What? The incense stuff Shannon lit after dinner?"

The scent of jasmine still lingered, but that wasn't it. I rolled off Will's lap and padded across the room in the comedy socks Shannon bought me for my last birthday—red and blue with the Wonder Woman logo in yellow.

Another inhale, and my throat tightened. I knew that acrid aroma, but it had no business being in our flat. Could I be mistaken?

I made it through the arch into our tiny hallway, and the smell got stronger. A scratching sound came from the front door, and time slowed as my gaze fell to the floor, to the dark puddle spreading out from underneath the welcome mat.

A rattle.

A click.

I leapt back a split second before the petrol ignited, flames tearing across the carpet towards the living room as the wave of heat washed over me.

"Get out!" I screamed, loud enough to wake Arthur, Helene, and the rest of the dead. "Fire!"

But we couldn't go through the front door, not with the wall of orange rapidly advancing. Will already had a groggy Shannon on her feet, and I shoved both of them backwards into the bedroom she shared with Aisling—it had a window, whereas mine didn't.

"Aisling!"

Shannon snatched up her daughter, who began crying, her wails eclipsing the crackle of fire right outside the door.

"We'll have to go out the window," Will said.

I was already a step ahead of him, stuffing a towel in front of the crack at the bottom of the door and stripping down Shannon's bed. We only had one sheet plus the duvet cover—the other bed linen was in the airing cupboard off the hallway.

Shannon hugged Aisling and backed away. "I can't! We're three storeys up."

I cursed under my breath. "Is now a good time to tell you Shannon's scared of heights?" I asked Will.

He put one arm around her as I tore at the seams of the duvet, ripping it in half with sheer desperation. Once I'd knotted all three pieces together, the makeshift rope would reach almost to the ground. Pulse racing, I threw the windows open and tied one end of our lifeline around the centre support.

"Shannon, you have to climb down. There's no other way."

She glanced at the door, but even with the towel in the way, wisps of smoke were curling underneath it. Seemed our landlord didn't pay much attention to health and safety—I doubted the ancient carpet or anything else was fire retardant.

"I-I-I can't."

I shoved her towards the window, trying to keep calm as my heart clawed its way up my throat. I'd been here before, with black smoke rolling towards me in a choking cloud, bringing death to all it touched. Back then, the enemy had been shooting too, so at least I had small mercies to be thankful for today.

"Will's right. You'll have to climb."

She froze, arms tightening around her daughter. "What about Aisling?"

Will gave the sheets a tug, testing their strength, then stepped forward. "I'll take her."

The little girl had gone from sobbing to shocked silence, and I had to unpeel her fingers from Shannon's jumper to pass her to Will.

"Hold on tight, sweetie. Can you do that?"

She nodded, her face pressed against Will's chest, and clasped her arms around his neck. I helped to shove him up onto the windowsill.

"Send Shannon down next," he said. "If you go first, she'll never leave."

"I planned to."

Then he was gone, no time to talk further as the smoke grew thicker. The inside of my nose stung, and Shannon began coughing beside me. Will lowered himself down the makeshift rope, hand over hand, muscles bulging. When he reached the end, he still had half a floor to drop, and he fell backwards as he landed in order to cushion Aisling from the frozen ground below. I held my breath, and time stood still as I waited for him to move.

Finally, he rolled sideways and scrambled to his feet.

Thank goodness.

"They made it," Shannon gasped, leaning out the window to get some air.

"Your turn."

"I don't think—"

I grabbed her with strength I hadn't used for years and didn't even know I still had. "Go!" I hauled her up and stuffed her through the window. "Grip the sheets with your hands and feet."

For a second, I thought she wouldn't let go of the windowsill as she gripped the edge, knuckles white. But when the first tendrils of flame showed at the bottom of the bedroom door, she released her grip and lowered herself.

One floor, two floors, three floors. Will caught her at the bottom and Aisling clung to her legs, crying loudly enough for me to hear over the roaring fire.

My turn.

Except a yowl from behind caught my attention, and I turned to see Taffy shoot out from under the bed. He cowered in the corner, quivering.

Aw, hell. I couldn't leave him behind. How could I sleep at night knowing I'd condemned him to burn? I needed a tote, a rucksack, some sort of bag I could stuff him into, but there was nothing, and I worried that if I wrapped him in something small like a cardigan or a T-shirt, he'd fall out. I tried to grab him, but he hissed and lashed out with a paw, leaving claw marks oozing blood on the back of my hand. Shit. He was terrified.

And I only had one option left.

My fingers trembled as I worked at the knot holding the sheets to the window frame, but I finally got it undone. Sweat popped out of every pore, not just from the heat, but from fear, as I threw the shredded bed linen over Taffy and bundled him up as best I could.

"Catch him!" I screamed at Will.

"What the hell are you doing?"

I flung Taffy out the window in his cocoon, and I barely had time to see Will grab him before the bedroom door gave way completely. Oh, hell. Literally. Satan himself would have been quite at home in what was left of our poor flat.

Deep breaths, Rania.

I climbed out the window, gripping the crevice that ran above the frame while I balanced on the tiny ledge. An inch at a time, I shuffled sideways until I could reach out for the window next door. For the first time in my life, I thanked whoever designed the ugly concrete building for making the rooms so tiny. If the window ledges had been farther apart, I'd have been dead.

Another six inches, a foot, a yard. Three more windows, four, five, and I reached the outstretched boughs of the old oak that nobody had bothered to trim in years just as the first sirens sounded in the distance. I tore off a fingernail as I dug into the bark, but I kept hold of the tree limb because my life depended on it. Twigs tore at my hair as I crawled towards the trunk, and I closed my eyes as a branch snapped back and almost blinded me.

Get to the ground. Get to the ground.

I repeated the words over and over, the way I had six years ago on the night I'd come so close to dying in Syria. I'd crossed two continents to get away from violence, but it seemed the Grim Reaper had hitched a ride too.

But I beat that asshole into second place, and the instant my feet touched the dirt, strong arms wrapped around me, holding me up as my knees buckled.

"Shh, it's okay," Will murmured as the first sob tore from my throat.

Okay? How could it be okay?

I stared up at the place I'd once called home, tears pouring down my cheeks as firemen unrolled hoses and set up ladders to tackle the flames now shooting from Shannon's bedroom window.

It hit me like a punch to the stomach.

I'd come to England with nothing, and here I was again.