“We need to get out,” I said.

“My phone,” Derek whispered, staring at the screen.

“It’s still recording.”

“Keep it safe,” I said.

At the top of the stairs, the basement door flew open.

A bright light shone directly down into our eyes.

“Fire Department!” a voice boomed. “Is anyone down there?”

Carl emerged from the back of the basement, his shirt soaked with sweat.

“I shut off the main gas!” he called out.

The roaring sound of the steam began to die down, turning into a low, menacing hiss.

The firefighter descended the stairs, his boots splashing in the water.

He looked at the steam-filled room, then at Carl, and then at Derek and me.

“Everyone out of the basement right now,” the firefighter ordered.

We scrambled up the concrete steps into the cool air of the first-floor hallway.

Mrs. Patterson was standing there, wrapped in a heavy wool coat.

Mr. Alvarez was beside her, holding a flashlight.

“What happened?” Mrs. Patterson asked, her hands trembling.

“Mallerie,” I said, catching my breath.

“She tried to blow the boiler.”

“I saw her run out the back,” Mr. Alvarez said.