“I’m Shawn,” he says.
“Thank you,” I say as he steps back and settles into one of the recliners along the wall.
The captain from the other shift, Captain Brewer, runs through a list of the calls they took over the last twenty-four hours.
“We restocked the engine and medic,” he says. “And Sycamore Assisted Living was a false alarm. Apparently the alarm pull was initiated by a sleepwalker.”
Dustin looks at me, stifling a laugh and softly shaking his head.
He silently mouths the words, “What did I tell you?”
“We cleared a brush fire near Smokehouse Road,” Captain Brewer says. “There’s a threat of rekindling if the wind conditions continue.”
Cody nods his head. He and Greyson exchange a silent conversation. My eyes linger on Greyson. He’s a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces. Maybe if I stare long enough, something will click into place.
His eyes flick to mine and I look away, fixing on Captain Brewer with a focus that makes the backs of my eyeballs tug. I’m sure Greyson tracks every bit of my avoidance. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could see straight through my head to watch my eye muscles straining with his X-ray perception.
It’s always the quiet ones. Intense. Deep. Unreadable. But they perceive all the things most people miss.
I shift in my seat.
“We have a new member on Crew A,” Captain Brewer says. “Cody, do you want to do the honors?”
Cody stands next to Captain Brewer at the head of the table. “We’ve got a new rookie on our crew. Hallie, say hi to the guys. Guys, welcome Hallie to Waterford Fire. Hallie came here from Maryville. It’s her first assignment out of the academy. We’re looking forward to having her on crew.”
The guys all clap. I can feel their eyes on me. I force myself to smile and look around the room, meeting each one of their gazes directly.
“Thank you,” I say. “I’m glad to be here.”
“When are we getting a woman on our crew?” Shawn asks from his spot in the recliner.
The room erupts in laughter.
I take my opportunity to show what I’m made of—borrowing courage from Avery’s text.
I turn and face Shawn. “Maybe if Crew A doesn’t live up to the hype, I’ll be switching over.”
A riot erupts—laughter, taunting, more laughter.
“What do you mean, not live up to the hype?” Dustin says playfully.
“Come on over anytime,” one of the guys from Crew B says. “We’ll trade Thompson.”
A brown-haired man says, “Me? What about you? I cook a better steak.”
“Facts,” Shawn says. “I say we keep Thompson and trade Leuzinger.”
“Watch it, Shawn,” the blond who suggested trading Thompson says. “I’m in charge of workout tomorrow.”
More laughter fills the room.
Cody’s smiling when he says, “Alright, alright. I think we’ll keep Collins on our crew. No need to get rid of Leuzinger or Thompson.”
I like the sound of my last name coming from Captain—even if it’s technically my husband’s last name. I kept it for simplicity—for Mia. Hearing it here, around the table with both crews, makes my status feel official.
Greyson’s eyes land on mine. He’s almost smiling. There’s this microscopic crease at the corners of his eyes. It’s not even a grin, but somehow I know he’s amused.
Our captains dismiss us and the alternating crew leaves.
