If I could release the counterweight, the pulley would swing.

It might not save us, but it would create a diversion.

“Keep your hands where I can see them, Audrey,” Beatrice warned, her eyes snapping back to me.

“I’m not moving,” I lied, keeping my voice soft.

“I just want to hold my husband.”

Liam looked at me, his eyes wide with a silent warning.

He knew what I was planning.

“The connection is weak in here,” Liam said, holding the phone up.

“The concrete walls are blocking the signal.”

“I need to step closer to the window.”

“Don’t move an inch!” Beatrice shrieked.

Her hand shook, and a drop of burning sulfur from the match fell.

It landed on the wooden stair.

A small, blue flame erupted instantly on the kerosene-soaked wood.

Chloe let out a muffled scream behind her tape.

The flame began to creep down the steps toward the main pool of gasoline.

“Liam!” I screamed.

“Run!” Liam yelled.

He lunged forward, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the side of the stage.

The fire caught the main trail with a soft, roaring *whoosh*.