"Shit, any casualties?" Connor questioned.
"Not yet, but escalation is common with serial arsonists. They get bolder and take bigger risks for a bigger payoff," I replied. "This will change our response protocols. We approach every call with heightened awareness, making no assumptions and cutting no corners. I want full gear, full protocols, even on routine calls," I noted.
They nodded, understanding the gravity of what I asked.
"Alright, finish cleaning this equipment, and get some food. I'm going to cut out of here," I informed them.
I exited the building and hopped into my truck. During my ride home, my shoulders remained locked, and my jaw ached from grinding my teeth. They were classic signs of stress that my sister, Kiara, would've called out in a heartbeat if she could see me."You're carrying the weight of the world, Li,"she'd say.
At the light, I rolled my neck, trying to work out more of the tension. On a typical day, the drive would help me clear my head. Today wasn't normal, though. My mind kept circling back to those storage units.
As I rounded the bend, I spotted a woman walking, and I did a double-take.
It was Gisselle. She turned at the sound of my truck approaching. I hesitated, my foot hovering over the brake. The smart move would have been to wave and keep driving. I wasn't in any state for social interaction. Still, I slowed down and pulled over to the shoulder a few feet ahead of her.
Gisselle approached. She wore running leggings and a lightweight jacket over a T-shirt, casual yet somehow put together in a way that screamed big-city polish. Her flowery scent was pleasant, and she didn't strike me as someone who'd been walking or exercising.
"Lieutenant Crawford," she greeted, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
"Ms. Daniels… Gisselle," I corrected myself.
"You finishing up a shift?" she asked, nodding at my uniform.
"Yeah. I'm heading home."
"You are loyal to the job. I see you're always in uniform," she commented.
"I do take it off occasionally." I chuckled.
Gisselle laughed along softly. "I'm just saying."
"How are you settling in? To Goodwin Grove, I mean?"
"It's been an adjustment, quieter than what I'm used to. I presented my design for the community center renovation, and some of the council members weren't thrilled about an outsider suggesting changes to their historic building."
I nodded. "Small towns. Change comes slowly here."
"I'm learning. Though the fire department is very welcoming and hospitable," she commented.
Something in her tone made me wonder what kind of hospitality my team had shown, especially Jaxon, with his notorious flirting. "They're good men. The best crew in the district."
"They spoke highly of you, too. Said you run the tightest ship in the department," she informed me.
I shrugged at her praise.
"From what I understand, your tightness sets the standard for everyone else. What made you choose firefighting? If you don't mind me asking."
The question caught me off guard. Most people asked about the worst fire I'd seen or if I ever rescued a cat from a tree. Her question made me dig deeper.
"Family tradition. My uncle was a firefighter in Columbus. He used to let me try on his helmet when I was a kid and show me around the station. I mostly wanted work that mattered," I added.
She nodded. "That makes sense. Something to help people. It's why I became an architect."
The sunset gave her a glow that made it hard for me to look away. She stood out, not because she was trying to, but because she radiated a confidence and purpose that felt out of place in the sleepy Goodwin Grove.
"How does the fire hall operate? I mean, like I know the basics. You respond to emergencies, obviously, but what's the day-to-day like?"
"Twenty-four on, forty-eight off. Full crew at the station during shifts, we eat, sleep, and train there. Why do you ask?"
