"Callie! Callie!" my screams were swallowed up by the sound of sirens. The red, white, and blue lights blinded me. The fire was put out, but smoke still clogged the air, making it difficult to see or breathe. "Callie!" Tears were streaming down my cheeks. She had to be here.

"Are you okay, sweetie? Why don't you come over here and have one of the medics take a look at you?" A fireman laid his hand on my shoulder and tried to steer me away from the crowd. But with a quick twist, I yanked body from his grip and tore off toward the house, screaming my sisters name.

"Hey!" the fireman shouted after me.

"Callie!"

"Lani!" I swung my head around trying to pinpoint where I heard my name. Then I saw my sister running toward me.

"Callie," I sob. "I'm scared."

"I know," she wrapped her arms around me. "Me too."

"Where are mom and dad?" I asked my voice small. I already knew the answer, but I didn't want to accept it.

"They've gone away."

I wish I could say I held it together for my sister's sake, but I can't. I broke down, and I could feel her shaking in my arms too. We clung to each other, the last of our family.

Callie pulled away to look me in the eye. She wiped at the rivulets of tears on her snotty face, and I was sure I didn't look much better. She said,  "Ten seconds."

"What?"

"Ten seconds to feel sad and scared and lost. Ten thing that we're going to miss ,and then we have to be strong. Mom and dad," her voice broke, "wouldn't want to see us like this."

I nodded. "One. I'm going to miss our dolls."

"We can always get new ones. The same ones if we want, but honestly, it was a terrible decision to cut Franky's hair."

I snort, conjuring up the image of our Franky doll, who I thought had outrageously long hair and coerced Callie into giving a new hairdo. "Two, I'm going to miss slow dancing to the record player."

"They're obsolete. We'll get one of those fancy music players and be able to play a million songs without the screeching."

"Three, I'm going to miss mom's cooking."

Callie snorts. "Mom's cooking was terrible."

"She still tried," I argue.

"Four," she prompts.

"Four, I'm going to miss dad's off key singing."

"Five, I'm going to miss tickle wars."

"Six, I'm going to miss jumping off the swing set."

"Seven, I'm going to miss mom and dad tucking us in," I sniffled. "Callie, I'm going to miss mom and dad." Her eyes shined with unshed tears.

"Eight, you know what I'm not going to miss?"

"What?" I wiped at my runny nose.

"That ugly paisley wallpaper."

I giggled. "I don't know why mom liked it. The colors were too loud and looked terrible! Gave me a headache every time I looked at it."

Callie nodded in agreement.

"Nine, I'm going to miss this neighborhood," I continue.

"Ten, we're going to be okay. We don't need those things."

  Our tears had stopped and we gripped each others' hands. "I thought I lost you."

"No way. You and me."

"You and me," I repeated.

"Besides, don't identical twins have like telepathic links or something? I will always find you."

"Callie! Lani!" We turned and saw Collin Meyer our next-door neighbor searching for us.

"Over here!" I yelled and waved.

He jogged up to us. "Are you guys ok?" He asked, concern clouding his features.

Callie looked at me, and I nodded my reassurance. "We will be." She said.

"My mom told me to tell you a lady is here to talk to you. Come on."

With one last glance at our charred house, we followed Collin.