Page 53 of Burn Protocol

Elena squints her eyes for a moment and I see something flicker behind them. It makes my breath stutter and I instantly wish I could take it back. No. That would be even more unethical. You said you could remain unbiased. So, do it! I hold my tongue. After what seems like forever, Elena leans forward a little bit.

“It takes its toll. Physically it drains me. I have muscle spasms, my sleeping schedule is disrupted,” she pauses for a moment and my heart skips a beat, “and everything aches all the time. Mentally, it’s not something you can prepare for. We live for our work. To do good out there. When we fail–when I fail–it comes at a great cost. There is not a day that goes by where I don’t mourn those who I couldn’t save.”

I blink for a moment. I’ve never heard Elena speak so elaborately before. Her tone is even, maybe slightly cool, but her words are honest. I can sense that. And it confuses me. Not because I don’t want to hear the answers, but because it feels like it creates a divide between us. The woman in front of me doesn’t even resemble the person who held me safe in her arms, warm and sheltered. And that scares me. Stay professional. What did she say last? Oh, right.

“So, how do you keep doing it?”

Her lips curl slightly, almost condescending. What is going on?

“By remembering that for every life I lose, I get to save twenty others.”

She stares at me now, lips pressed together.

“And you have saved many lives,” my heart rate speeds up as I line up the next question. “So many, that you are actually a decorated firefighter. You were rewarded for your swift actions that saved hundreds of people during the fires of 2016. How does that make you feel?”

She scoffs and softly shakes her head. Her fingers curling around her mug as if it is grounding her. The muscle in her jaw ticks and I instinctively reach out my hand to put it on hers. Her fingers feel warm under my touch and she freezes for a moment, breathing in deeply and then running her thumb over mine. She closes her eyes, and then she withdraws. When she opens her eyes again, her jaw is tense and the mask is back in place. My throat bobs at the sight of it. What is going on here?

Elena opens her mouth to speak to me, but I raise my hand and turn off the voice recorder.

“No,” I say while shaking my head.

“No?” Her voice is low and confused. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

I shake my head again, my eyes brimming with tears now. Every cell in my body tells me something is wrong. Not because Elena is cold or cruel, but because she is distant, like I am just somebody she works with. Am I? I thought there was more but maybe I read too much into this.

“No,” I say again, my throat tight. “Something is wrong. What is it, El? Talk to me, please.”

I reach out my hand, but she leans back into her chair and looks at me. Something flashes behind her eyes that I can’t quite name. Is it anger, fear, desperation?

“Please, Elena, say something.”

Her frown deepens and she shakes her head, as if trying to convince herself more than anything else.

“Nothing is wrong, Maya. Why would there be?”

“Elena…” I breathe, my voice breaking.

“I said nothing is wrong,” she snaps.

She pushes her chair back with such force that it topples over, the clattering sound making me flinch. Her hands are balled into fists now and there is nothing left of that fake serene look she had on earlier. This is the lieutenant I know. The woman with the raging passion and the blazing eyes. And even though the fire is now aimed at me, I finally feel something inside me relax.

“Is it because of what happened?” I try, but instantly regret it.

Her whole body goes taut and her jaw snaps shut. Her hands tremble now and her breathing becomes more rapid.

“Maya,” she hisses, her tone a warning.

“Maya what?” I keep pushing now, unable to stop myself. “You are so hot and cold, Elena. One moment it feels like we are so connected, and then the other you just shut me out as if I am nothing. You are giving me whiplash.” I exhale.

Elena looks at me as if I struck her. Her mouth catches in a gasp and her brow furrows closer. Her mask falls and for a brief moment I see a flash of hurt. Then she turns on her heels and strides away. She is already at the bottom of the stairs when my brain registers what is happening and I push after her. How did this suddenly turn into something I did wrong? We spoke so intimately all weekend, what changed? Her strides are so strong and fast, that I have to run to keep up with her.

“Elena wait,” I cry out, but she ignores me completely.

It isn’t until she reaches the dressing rooms that I get close enough to grab her arm. The moment my fingers touch her skin, she halts. The movement is so sudden that I crash into her and nearly tip over. Her strong hands grab me tight to prevent me from falling, and I see a flash of worry cross her face. I stare at her, bewildered. Elena blinks and withdraws her hands as if she just burned herself. The motion feels like a gut punch and I gasp for air. How could I have been such a fool?

“You think I took advantage of you,” I exhale hoarsely, before backing away from her.

My chest is tight and I can feel my hands shake. What on earth have I done? I went to her house on the day she needed a friend, only to exploit her weakest moment. Not with that intention, never… but still.