She laughed. "Good to know. Though the rescue service is excellent."
Her eyes lingered on my face, making me uncomfortable, not because I didn't like it — God knew I did — but because being stoic, disciplined, and in control was what kept me together. It kept my crew alive or at least didn't portray me as unbreakable as I pretended to be. I glanced away, checking on the progress of my crew battling what remained of the fire.
"Do you know what caused it?" Gisselle asked, looking toward the house.
"Can't say for sure yet. These older homes tend to have issues."
"Have you been doing this a long time?"
Her question caught me off guard. "Fourteen years," I answered automatically.
"It shows. The way you carried me out. It was like being rescued by someone who'd never drop me, no matter what was falling around me."
I didn't know how to handle that. It made me veer into territory I didn't want to explore. I cleared my throat and took a step back.
"You know, smoke inhalation can have delayed effects. You should allow the paramedics to examine you more thoroughly," I commented, retreating to the safety of procedure.
"If you insist, Lieutenant."
"I do. Wilson will take good care of you." I nodded stiffly.
The way I wanted to stay and talk to this woman, though meeting under the worst circumstances, she pulled me in a way I hadn't experienced in years, which was exactly why I needed to walk away.
"Take care of yourself, Ms. Daniels. I hope the rest of your welcome to Goodwin Grove is less eventful."
I turned to rejoin my crew, and I knew her eyes were on my back. Training had prepared me for running into burning buildings, facing all types of disasters, but it had not trained me for the disappointment I felt walking away from this woman.
I pushed my feelings aside and focused on the scene instead. The fire had been contained, with the crew working on the remaining hotspots. This was where I belonged: in the middle of the action.
Back at the fire hall, I stood in the center of the equipment bay while my crew moved around me, each person focused on their post-call duties. Smoke clung to us, and my gear felt heavier than it had this morning, as if it had soaked up more than water and smoke from the blaze.
"Listen up. That was good work today. We had a quick response and solid communication. Still too damn close."
I paced a few steps, scanning their faces.
"The ceiling in the hallway gave way two seconds after we cleared it. That wasn't luck. It was timing and training. I want every piece of gear triple-checked before our next call. If it failed during a fire, would you bet your life on it? Would you bet your teammate's life on it?"
"No, sir," they collectively replied.
"Then check it like your life depends on it — because it does. We have safety inspections starting next week. I want us to be prepared. I want us to set the damn standard for every other house in the district."
Dane nodded. "Are we on the rotation for elementary school visits, too?"
"Next month. Evan, you're heading it up this time. Get with me tomorrow about the schedule," I confirmed.
"Yes, sir," Evan responded.
"Anything else from the call we need to address? Anything we could improve?" I looked around the circle.
Connor cleared his throat. "The hydrant on Long Street was running low pressure at first. We should probably note that to the water department."
"Good catch. I'll include it in the report. Alright, let's get this equipment cleaned and sorted. I'll be in my office if you need me."
I turned away as the crew broke into quieter conversations. My office was at the back of the building. It wasn't anything special, just a space with a desk, two chairs, and a filing cabinet, only the essentials, a few framed certificates, and a stack of incident reports waiting for my signature.
I closed the door behind me. In there, I could drop the lieutenant for a while and just be Liam. I sank into my chair, bone tired. I was sure my body would remind me of today's call for a few days.
My gaze drifted to the only personal item I had in this office, a photo from five years ago. In the photo, my arms were around the shoulders of Reggie Thomas, my best friend since the academy. His smile was frozen in time three months before the warehouse fire that took him.
