Page 17 of Things You Save in a Fire

“Yes, Captain.” Everybody knew that.

“Some of our best guys have tried three or four times before passing.”

My heart wilted a little, anticipating bad news. I’d studied for months for that test. “Yes, Captain.”

“It might surprise you to hear, then, that not only did you pass, you got the number one score in the entire city. You scored two points below me.”

I sat up.

She lifted her eyebrows, just a sliver, in admiration. “Strong work.”

I didn’t know what to say. “Thank you, Captain.”

“Ordinarily, of course, that would mean a promotion to lieutenant.”

I nodded.

“But your circumstances at the moment are not exactly ordinary.”

I glanced down at my hand, which was throbbing a little. I might need to splint a finger.

Worth it.

I lifted my eyes back to the captain.

“I need you to know that the chief and the mayor have had their eye on you for a while now.”

“They have?”

She nodded. “You’ve been on the city’s radar ever since that feature theStatesmandid on you last summer, but that top test score clinched it.” Now she was looking me over. “Until last night, you were a perfect representative of the best of our department. You’re young, and fit, and wholesome. No visible tattoos.” She studied my face another second, then added, “Pretty, but not too pretty.”

I frowned. “Thank you.”

“Tell me this, Hanwell,” she said. “Why did we put the hoses on that warehouse fire last month when it was burning too hot for the water to do any good?”

We both knew that answer. A hundred-person crowd had been watching us, and then the news helicopters showed up. And even though the only way that fire was going to go out was to burn itself to the ground, we put water on it anyway. Because that’s what people wanted us to do.

“Hydraulic public relations, Captain,” I answered.

She nodded, like,Exactly.“Image matters. When they see us coming, they need to know we’re the good guys. They need to let us get in and get to work.”

I nodded.

“Do you know what the trouble with women is, Hanwell?”

I shook my head.

“Women don’t look like firefighters.”

No argument there.

“You know Austin is a very progressive department,” she said next.

I did know that, of course. Anyone who’d seen our rainbow flag flying, or shopped at one of our vegan/kosher bake sales, or seen our fire marshal tooling around in a Prius knew we were a progressive department.

“The city wants to update our image,” she said. “And—again, up until last night—I would have said you were a perfect candidate to lead the way. You’re smart as hell, and you’re strong as an ox, and you don’t seem to be scared of anything.”

“Thank you.”

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