The night smelled faintly of wet ash and engine oil when she arrived. The fire station loomed larger than she remembered from the orientation tour, its red brick walls soaked in mist and the quiet rumble of the waiting trucks settling like a heartbeat beneath the surface. Her boots thudded against the wet pavement as she crossed the lot, the oversized duffel sliding off her shoulder. She was early. Way too early. But anything felt better than waiting at home, pacing around and chewing her lip while imagining all the ways she could mess up tonight.
The door creaked as she pushed it open, stepping into a hallway that hummed with low fluorescent light. Her eyes adjusted slowly, landing on the polished floor, the bulletin board plastered with calls, training schedules, shifts. It smelled like
