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don’t have time for questions. I’ll answer as we go, but right now, you need to get your stuff together so we can get out of here.” Étoile’s voice had increased in its urgency and I noted fear in her voice for the first time as she cocked her head. I didn’t know what she was listening for but finally, she looked straight at me and hissed, “They’re coming.” She didn’t have to tell me who they were.
    I took a deep breath and, hoping I was doing the right thing, took two steps towards her and tossed the knife through the narrow doorway into the kitchen. It hit the edge of the sink and tumbled into the plastic bowl with a muffled clatter.
    Étoile didn’t move so I stepped around her, unzipped my bag and pulled my few clothes off the rails, shoving them in haphazardly, and tossing the wire hangers on the sofa bed. I pushed in my little box of jewellery so that it nestled down the side of the clothes, too wedged in for the lid to fall open. My spare shoes went on top. My whole life packed into one small, single bag. Pathetic.
    Étoile glided towards the hallway door and had her head cocked to one side again. When she looked at me briefly, I couldn’t tell if she was impressed that I’d managed to pack in under ten minutes flat or surprised that I really had so little.
    “They’re nearly here but they’re confused. They haven’t decided what they are going to do yet,” she breathed. Her eyes had an unfocused faraway look and her voice was just loud enough for me to read an undercurrent of fear. She didn’t strike me as someone who normally broke into a sweat when under pressure so that note of fear had me concerned. “Have you got everything?” she asked, hurriedly nodding towards the bag.
    I scanned the room. I had my clothes, shoes and jewellery bits in the bag. I had taken nothing from the bathroom. “Toothbrush,” I said and made a move towards the damp bathroom. It was the best move I could have made.
    The fiery missile that exploded through the window and breezed into the room in a gush of wet air, was just a whisper from my face and I felt the rush of heat as it whistled past me to thud onto my sofa bed. Glass fragmented in its wake, shards sucked into my room with the force of the sudden rush of oxygen, and I shrieked in terror, throwing myself towards Étoile who caught me with steady arms. Flames erupted on the bed and the smell of petrol leaked into the air from the crude weapon. I pushed myself free from Étoile and grabbed my duffle bag before it was consumed in the eager flames. I started towards Étoile and she grabbed my hand to tug me away from the inferno as a loud crash sounded at the door.
    We wheeled around to see the wood splinter as the head of an axe burst through. Étoile spread her arms behind her to reach for me. Alarm bells sounded in my head as danger approached us from every angle, cutting off both our escape routes. I could hear cries erupt from the street below and anger from the hall. The cruelty carried itself through the air and rained all around us. I knew in that moment that this was what real terror felt like.
    Étoile had the foresight to grab my shoulder bag from where I had dumped it when I came in and was edging closer to me, my body between hers and the flames, which were already billowing black smoke. Now we were half facing the door that in just four strokes was almost shattered. A hand reached through and stubby fingers grappled with the flimsy lock.
    “We have to go now,” Étoile cried, catching my hand and gripping firmly.
    Between the Molotov cocktail through the window and the formidable axe smashing through my door, I couldn’t have agreed more. Somewhere in the shadows of my mind, I registered the thought that I could smell the hairs in my nose getting singed.
    As her hand grasped mine, I spied the little, square tin caddy on top of my TV. “I have to get it,” I cried back, stumbling a step away to grasp it with my free hand. I had a few