June smoothed a damp curl out of the girl’s eyes. “The worst part is behind us,” she said, honest. “But we’re going to stay until the morning decides to be morning.”
From the doorway, a low horn sounded once—long and polite. A fire engine eased into the lot, lights turning lazy circles over wet concrete. A firefighter in a yellow coat stepped down, scanning for the captain. He lifted a hand to his ear like listening to someone far away and then looked straight at her.
“Captain,” he said, careful. “We’ve got one more ask. It’s… different.”
She didn’t sigh. She just nodded to let the night know we were still saying yes.
Part 9 – Names You Can Carry
The firefighter in the yellow coat cleared his throat, as if making room for a sentence that didn’t like to be said out loud.
“Maple Ridge Care Center,” he told the captain. “Basement’s taking water. Generator’s coughing. Elevator is out. Staff’s working the stairs, but they’re outnumbered. We need hands that can lift and patience that can talk.”
