Chapter 15 - The Ring and the Promise
Mark pushed himself up from the floor, coughing violently, picking glass shards out of his forearms.
Across the smoke-dimmed room, Sterling sat huddled in the corner, sobbing quietly, shielding baby Hope with his own body. In the center of the room lay Clara, her breathing shallow, but the bandage held.
Mark crawled on his hands and knees to Clara’s side. He reached into his inner bunker jacket pocket and pulled out the small platinum wedding ring. His fingers were torn, bloody, and trembling as he took her pale left hand and slid the ring back onto her fourth finger.
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"I brought it back," he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. "I told you... she wasn't waiting anymore. She was just waiting to meet you."
Clara’s eyelids fluttered open, her brown eyes finding his through the haze. She felt the ring on her finger, then heard the faint, sniffling cry of her daughter in Sterling's arms. A single tear washed a clean line down her ash-covered cheek.
"Mark..." she breathed, squeezing his fingers with surprising strength.
From the corridor outside the conference room came the sudden sound of heavy boots, the hiss of SCBA regulators, and a loud call: "Fire Department! Search and rescue, call out!"
"In here!" Mark croaked, raising his hand toward the doorway. "In here! We need medical!"
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The heavy door was kicked open, and three firefighters in full turnout gear rushed into the room, their flashlights piercing the dark. But as the lead rescuer lifted his helmet to scan the room, Mark froze.
The man holding the axe wasn't from Engine 4, nor did he have the city patch on his sleeve. On his collar was the insignia of the private security firm hired to ensure nobody left the tower alive.
