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“How’s the office treating you?” Chief Thompson asked, her voice no-nonsense but not unkind. She was an average-height woman with a head of sandy-colored hair streaked with gray and lines around her eyes, and she was renowned for running a tight ship.

“It’s fine,” Zoey said, glancing around. “Still getting used to it.”

“You’ll settle in soon enough,” Thompson said, setting the folder on her desk. “These are the files you asked for. Reports from the last few years. Thought you might want to go over them.”

Zoey nodded, eyeing the folder. “Thanks.”

“Take your time,” Chief Thompson said, straightening up. “No need to rush. Just ensure you’re ready for the drills tomorrow and the command ops meeting later, Don’t forget to take a peek at the simulation.”

“Command ops?” She raised a brow.

“It’s our fancy word here for the tactics room. That’s where we decide on strategies and the like. You’d like it there.”

“So, it’s straight to work then.”

Becky smiled. “I know what you’re capable of, Lieutenant. Can’t wait to see you in action around here.”

Zoey nodded. “Can’t wait either.”

Becky lingered for a moment, then gave a curt nod and left the room, closing the door behind her. Zoey stared at the door momentarily, then turned back to her desk.

She opened the folder, flipping through the details of Phoenix Ridge and its history of wildfires. The paper felt thin under her fingers, the text dense with numbers and details. She tried to focus, but her mind wandered back to Forest Vale, her previous station.

Chief Thompson said she knew what Zoey was capable of. She wondered if she knew that she made a poor call once and lost a child in the process. Did she also know how much it had hurt her? So much that she opted for a transfer away from Forest Vale to help her deal with it?

Even now, she wasn’t even certain she had dealt with it. How does one deal with the fact that the error they made led to the death of a child?

Zoey’s body shuddered. She walked over to her seat and sank into it.

“Get yourself together,” Zoey said to herself. She sighed again.

The door opened again, this time without a knock. A young woman walked in. She was very beautiful with thick dark hair in a long, messy plait and a kind smile.

“Lieutenant,” she said, then took a step back. “I’m sorry, I should’ve?—”

“Knocked? Yes, you should have.” Zoey said. “Pilot?”

“Firefighter. The name’s Leilani Silva. Chief Thompson says I’m part of your team.”

“You’d have to remember to knock next time if you’re going to remain a part of my crew.”

“I will, Lieutenant.” Silva nodded.

“What’s the rest of the team like?” Zoey asked.

“Most of the team like you already.”

Zoey shrugged. “I didn’t come here to be liked.” She came here to make sure no one else died under her watch, but she didn’t say that. “There’s a lot to catch up with around here.” Zoey pointed to the files on her table.

Leilani walked over, standing beside the desk as she glanced at the open folder. “I can go over them with you if you’d like. I can tell you about many of them firsthand.”

“That would be helpful,” Zoey said. “You’ve been here a while?”

“Seven years,” Leilani said. “Started as a rookie, worked my way up.”

“Impressive,” Zoey said, watching her closely. “You must know this place inside out.”

“I do,” Leilani said, pointing toward the door. “I should get back to the rest of the team.”