Page 145 of Honeyfires

I sat down beside her, suddenly exhausted. "I don't know how to do that without falling apart."

"Then fall apart here, with me, so you don't fall apart on the stand."

"What if I was wrong?" The question that had been buzzing in my head for six weeks finally found its way out. "What if Rodriguez was right and I panicked and we would've been fine?"

"Were you wrong?" Those enormous eyes, seeing straight through me. "Is your crew alive?"

"Yes."

"Then you weren't wrong." She squeezed my hand. "When they ask if you regret your decision, tell them you regret that homes were lost, that families suffered, that Stevens was injured. But tell them you'd make the same choice again. Say it like you mean it. Because you do."

We didn't practice anymore after that. We lay tangled in the dark, her fingers tracing patterns on my skin, her heartbeat steady and real against mine.

"Whatever happens tomorrow," she murmured. "We face it together."

"What if they terminate me anyway?"

"Then we'll figure out together what comes next." Her arms tightened. "But you'll still have me."

She made it sound simple. Lying there in the dark with her heartbeat under my ear, I almost believed it.

The hearing room felt like a courtroom.

Long table at the front where the board members sat with Fire Chief Davidson in the center, flanked by Deputy Chief Martinez, Union President Walsh, and two outside investigators brought in to ensure impartiality. American flag. Arizona flag. That suffocating weight of institutional judgment hanging in the climate-controlled air.

Diana sat at counsel table beside me on the left, her briefcase open, the evidence file and the weather data and Freeman's expert report arranged in an order only she fully understood. Knoss was on my right. I was the middle of a very peculiar kind of sandwich, which was the most comforting thought I'd had all morning.

Rodriguez was in the front row, still in uniform. He didn't look at me when I walked in. Miller and Jackson sat beside him. Behind them, I could see Stevens, his left arm in a sling, the edge of burn scarring just visible above his collar, his right hand wrapped around a cane. He'd insisted on coming. His mother had tried to stop him, and he'd apparently been very polite and completely immovable about it, which sounded exactly like Stevens.

Davids and Emerson were in the back row, as far from me as they could get while still being present. Emerson caught my eye and gave a small nod. Davids looked at his hands.

I scanned the room for Vera.

Second row from the back. Navy blue dress, the one she'd worn to the library event. Professional, serious, heartbreakingly beautiful. Our eyes met across the room, and she mouthed I love you.

My chest tightened. She was here. In the back row, where everyone could see her. My girlfriend, my Honeyfires, my reason to keep fighting even when I wanted to stop.

Diana touched my elbow. "Ready?"

I was absolutely not ready. I nodded anyway. "Ready."

"This board of inquiry is now in session."

Chief Davidson's voice carried across the room, formal and heavy with authority. He read through the preliminaries: the incident date, the nature of the hearing, my rights under the union contract and department policies. Diana had already walked me through all of it, but hearing it read aloud in official language in a room full of people who would decide my future was its own particular experience.

"Captain Rodriguez, please take the stand."

Rodriguez moved to the witness chair with the military bearing of a man who had been making hard calls for twenty-two years. I made myself watch. Made myself listen.

"Captain Rodriguez, please describe the events leading up to Forewoman Alves's decision to evacuate without authorization."

"We were working a type-three wildfire in the Eagle Ridge area. The fire had started approximately eighteen hours earlier and had grown to approximately four hundred acres. My crew was assigned to a section of the containment line on the northwest ridge, protecting a cluster of residential structures approximately one mile southeast."

"What were the fire behavior predictions at the time?"

"Fire behavior models indicated stable conditions with an anticipated hold time of two to three hours before the fire would reach our position. Wind conditions were forecast to remain steady from the southwest at eight to ten miles per hour."

"When did conditions begin to change?"