“Go get it,” Harris said.

He let go of my arm and pushed me forward.

I stumbled toward the pantry door.

My heart was pounding in my ears.

The pantry door was only ten feet away.

It was a reinforced room with its own ventilation system.

If I could get inside, I would be safe from the gas and the fire.

But I had to get Harris away from the door first.

“It’s on the top shelf,” I said.

“Behind the canned goods,” I added.

Harris followed me closely, his boots heavy behind me.

The rain beat hard against the kitchen windows.

A flash of lightning lit up the backyard.

I saw the shadow of the tall pine trees swaying in the wind.

“Open it,” Harris commanded.

I reached for the heavy brass handle of the pantry door.

The metal was cold against my palm.

“Clara,” Julian’s voice came through the speaker, louder this time.

“If you open that door, I will end this,” Julian said.

“He’s bluffing,” Harris said.

He reached over my shoulder and pushed the door open.