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But he kept going.
Step by step.
Breath by breath.
Until—
A shape emerged through the smoke.
The fir.
Still standing.
He reached the door and dropped to his knees, hands shaking as he pulled away the packed dirt and beam.
“Salma! Lina!”
A pause.
Then, from inside:
“Baba?”
Relief hit him so hard it almost knocked him over.
“I’m here,” he said, forcing the door open. “I’m here.”
They rushed toward him, clinging to him, crying openly now.
“It’s so loud,” Lina sobbed.
“I know.”
“It’s hot,” Salma added.
“I know.”
He pulled them close, shielding them as best he could.
“We have to go,” he said.
“Where?” Salma asked.
He looked out at the burning world.
Then back at them.
“Through it.”