Page 4 of Dr. Roz Harrington
By the time evening rolled around, the firehouse had settled into its usual rhythm. The crew gathered in the communal kitchen for a makeshift dinner, a mix of leftover pasta and whatever snacks they could scrounge up. Sam sat at the head of the table, her plate mostly untouched as she watched the team banter back and forth.
Ben was animatedly recounting a past call, gesturing wildly with his fork. “And then the guy says, ‘This isn’t even my dog!’ Can you believe that? We’re waist-deep in water trying to rescue a golden retriever, and it turns out it doesn’t even belong to him.”
Jack laughed, shaking his head. “You’re like a magnet for weird calls, Morales. What’s next, a cat stuck in a toaster?”
“Hey, I handle it all with grace,” Ben retorted, earning a round of chuckles from the table.
Sam smiled faintly but stayed quiet, her thoughts elsewhere. She couldn’t stop replaying the events of the past forty-eight hours, the building collapse, Lila’s pale face, and Roz’s calm, commanding presence. No matter how much she tried to shake it off, Roz’s voice still echoed in her mind: “If she has a chance, I’ll find it.”
“You’re awfully quiet tonight, Cap,” Jack said, his tone light but curious. He leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes catching her distracted expression. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Just tired,” Sam replied, taking a sip of water in a futile attempt to dismiss the question.
“Uh-huh,” Jack said, not buying it. He waited until Ben was distracted by another teammate before leaning in conspiratorially. “This about the rescue? Or is it about that hospital hotshot you were glowering at?”
Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “I wasn’t glowering.”
Jack smirked. “Oh, you were glowering. Big time. What’s her name? Harrington? Pink hair? I mean, you don’t see that every day.”
Sam groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Jack, drop it.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender, grinning. “Hey, I’m just saying. You’ve got some serious ‘unfinished business’ vibes going on. You sure there’s not more to that story?”
“There’s no story,” Sam said firmly, though her voice lacked its usual conviction. “She’s just…reckless. That’s all. It’s frustrating.”
Jack gave her a knowing look but didn’t press further. “Whatever you say, Cap.”
Sam sighed as he moved on, joining the others in the conversation. But his words lingered, and she couldn’t help but wonder if there was some truth to them. Was it just frustration with Roz’s methods? Or was there something else about her, something Sam wasn’t ready to admit?
As the night wound down and the firehouse quieted, Sam found herself standing at the window of her office, staring out at the darkened city. Her reflection in the glass was steady, unyielding, but her thoughts weren’t. For all her control, all her discipline, Roz Harrington had slipped under her skin, and Sam wasn’t sure what to do about it.
With a shake of her head, she turned away from the window and flicked off the light, determined to leave the thoughtsbehind. But as she climbed into bed that night, she knew it wouldn’t be that easy. The image of Roz, confident, sharp, and entirely unforgettable, wasn’t going anywhere. Not yet.
2
ROZ
The OR was quiet except for the steady beep of the monitors and the low murmurs of Roz’s team. Every movement in the room revolved around her, deliberate and precise. Roz stood at the head of the table, her gloved hands steady as she guided the surgical instruments with ease. The patient, a middle-aged man with a subdural hematoma, was stable, but Roz didn’t relax. She never did, not until the last stitch was in place.
“Retract,” she said, her voice calm but firm. The scrub nurse moved without hesitation, and Roz leaned closer to inspect the exposed area of the brain. Her sharp green eyes tracked every detail, her mind fully focused, until it wasn’t.
It was just a flicker, a brief intrusion she didn’t expect: piercing blue eyes, set in a face framed by strength and conviction. Sam Quinn. The firefighter from the ER. The memory came unbidden, her low, steady voice cutting through Roz’s thoughts: “Will she make it?”
Roz blinked, her grip on the instrument tightening slightly. She shoved the distraction aside, irritated by her own lack of discipline.Focus, she told herself.This is what matters.
“Looking good, Dr. Harrington,” her resident said, breaking the silence.
“Of course it is,” Roz replied, her tone clipped but not unkind. She stepped back slightly, allowing her team to finish the closure while she supervised. Her posture remained composed, her sharp features unreadable, but the moment of distraction lingered in the back of her mind, unwanted and persistent.
When the surgery was complete, Roz stripped off her gloves and gown, handing them off to a nurse. She offered a brisk nod to her team. “Good work,” she said, already halfway out the door.
Back in her office, Roz sank into her chair, letting out a small sigh as she leaned back. The dim lighting and the hum of the overhead vent offered a moment of solitude, a brief pause in her relentless schedule. Her desk was cluttered with patient files and a half-empty cup of coffee, but her attention was elsewhere.
She hadn’t thought about the firefighter in hours, not since she’d arrived at the hospital that morning. But now, alone in her office, the memory crept back in. Sam Quinn had been so...unshakable. Most people who questioned Roz did so with hesitation, as though bracing for the inevitable cutting reply. But not Sam.
Her voice had been steady, even challenging, when she’d asked about Lila. “Is she going to make it?” There had been no fear in those words, only determination and something else. A fierce protectiveness that Roz wasn’t sure she’d ever seen before, not even in the most dedicated doctors.
Roz huffed, leaning forward to shuffle through the charts on her desk, trying to redirect her thoughts. It wasn’t just Sam’s confidence that stuck with her; it was the way she carried herself, the commanding presence that matched Roz’s own. Roz was used to being the dominant force in the room, but Sam hadbeen different. She hadn’t tried to overpower Roz; she had stood beside her, solid and immovable, like an anchor in the storm.
