Page 3 of Dr. Roz Harrington
Sam shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. She told herself it was professional frustration, nothing more. RozHarrington was reckless, and recklessness didn’t sit well with her. That was all there was to it.
But as she stared out the window, her eyes tracing the skyline, Sam knew she wasn’t being entirely honest with herself. Something about Roz had stuck, and no matter how hard she tried to let it go, the image of those piercing green eyes and that unshakable confidence refused to leave her alone.
She exhaled heavily, muttering under her breath, “Why the hell does she have to be so damn good?”
The creak of the firehouse’s front door interrupted her thoughts, followed by the hum of voices from the crew. Shaking off the unease settling over her, Sam stood, pushing the lingering image of Roz Harrington to the back of her mind. For now.
The sharp, jarring blare of the fire alarm shattered the quiet, pulling Sam from her thoughts. She was on her feet in an instant, her boots pounding against the floor as she hurried to the bay. The familiar rush of adrenaline surged through her veins, replacing introspection with action.
“Let’s move!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the commotion as her team scrambled into position. Jack and Ben were already climbing into the engine, their movements fluid with practiced efficiency. Sam pulled on her gear, her mind zeroing in on the situation as the dispatcher’s voice crackled through the radio.
“Residential fire reported at 3419 Sycamore Street. Possible occupants inside. Respond immediately.”
The truck roared to life, its siren piercing the air as they sped through the streets. Sam’s sharp blue eyes scanned the surroundings, her mind running through possible scenarios. Minor fires could escalate quickly if mishandled, and the thought of someone being trapped solidified her resolve.
When they arrived at the scene, smoke billowed out of the second story of a modest two-story home. A small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk, their faces pale with worry. Sam’s gaze swept the crowd as she jumped down from the truck.
“Has everyone made it out?” she called to a neighbor.
“Don’t think so!” came the reply. “The family’s kid is still in there!”
Sam’s heart clenched, but her voice stayed steady. “We’ll get them out. Stand back, please.”
She turned to her team, her tone sharp and commanding. “Jack, Ben, with me. Team Two, secure the perimeter and start ventilation. Let’s move.”
They moved like a well-oiled machine, entering the smoke-filled house with practiced precision. Sam took point, her powerful frame leading the way as she called out, “Fire department! Anyone inside?”
A faint cough answered her from somewhere upstairs. Without hesitation, Sam pushed forward, her team following close behind. The heat pressed against her, but she focused only on the sound, zeroing in on a small, frightened child huddled in a corner of a bedroom.
“You’re okay, buddy,” Sam said softly, crouching down to meet the child’s wide, tear-streaked eyes. “We’re going to get you out of here.”
She scooped the child up, holding them close as she guided her team back down the stairs and out of the house. Once outside, she handed the child to a waiting paramedic, her voice calm despite the adrenaline surging through her. “Mild smoke inhalation, but they should be fine.”
The fire was contained quickly after that, her team dousing the flames efficiently. As they packed up their gear and the smoke began to clear, Sam took a moment to glance back at the house. The scene was eerily reminiscent of the building collapse,the rush of saving lives and the weight of responsibility settling heavy on her shoulders.
And, inevitably, Roz’s face flashed in her mind again, the determination in her green eyes, the way she had taken command of Lila’s care. Sam clenched her jaw, frustrated with herself for letting her thoughts drift there, but she couldn’t shake the image.
Back at the firehouse, the familiar hum of activity slowly returned as her crew began cleaning up and prepping for the next call. Sam, however, retreated to her office again. The day’s events had left her restless, and her thoughts drifted to Lila.
Sitting at her desk, Sam pulled out her phone and dialed the hospital. Her call was answered after a few rings by a cheerful nurse.
“Harrington Memorial, how can I help you?”
“This is Captain Sam Quinn with Firehouse 27,” she said, her voice low but steady. “I’m checking on a patient brought in yesterday. Lila Torres.”
“Hold on just a moment, Captain,” the nurse replied, the sound of typing filling the silence.
Sam drummed her fingers on the desk, her jaw tight as she waited. Finally, the nurse returned.
“Lila is stable,” she said brightly. “Still in critical care, but she’s holding on.”
Relief washed over Sam, her shoulders sagging slightly as she exhaled. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I appreciate the update.”
“You’re welcome. Is there anything else?” the nurse asked.
Sam hesitated, the thought of asking about Roz hovering at the edge of her mind. But she shook her head, pushing it aside. “No, that’s all. Thanks.”
As she hung up, Sam leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. Relief mingled with lingering worry, the weight of the situation still pressing down on her. And though she tried to focus solely on Lila’s recovery, Roz’s presence hovered at the edges of her thoughts, refusing to be ignored.
