Chapter 12 Sam
Sam
The station was quiet in that particular way it got between calls.
Tyler and I were in the kitchen, nursing coffee that had gone cold an hour ago. He was staring at the mug in his hands like it held answers to questions he hadn't asked yet.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Why'd you become a firefighter?"
I leaned back in my chair and considered the question. Most guys had a story. A fire they'd witnessed as a kid. A family member they'd lost. Some defining moment that pointed them toward the job like a compass finding north.
My story was simpler than that.
"Jack." I turned the mug in my hands. "He joined first, then told me I should too."
Tyler was quiet for a moment. "I've been thinking about that a lot lately. Why I joined." He set his mug down. "It just made sense, you know? My father's a firefighter. So was my grandfather. And his father before that."
"Do you regret it?"
"I don't know. Sometimes I wonder if I would have chosen something else." He shrugged. "But then we go to a call that goes well, and I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."
Before I could respond, the kitchen door swung open.
Sean dropped into the chair across from us and kicked his feet up on the table. "God, waiting for a call is so damn boring."
A lot of guys joined for the rush. The glory. The adrenaline of running toward danger. Sean was one of them.
The TV in the corner was playing local news. A reporter was standing in front of City Hall, talking about the upcoming election.
"Montgomery's got it locked up," someone on the screen said. "Polls show him ahead by double digits."
Sean snorted. "Montgomery." He shook his head, his expression souring. "I heard a rumor about him and Jack Donovan's sister. The shit he spread about her when they were in high school." His jaw tightened. "A man who does that to a girl doesn't deserve to run for dogcatcher, let alone Solicitor."
Sean could be crude sometimes, but that didn't mean he lacked a conscience.
"So what's the deal with this proposal she's putting together?” Sean shifted in his chair. “Danny says she's got half the dispatchers talking."
"She's thorough." I was staring at the TV without seeing it.
"Didn’t she work on this series that helped pass legislation in New York?" Sean shook his head, almost impressed. "If I were her, I'd expose Montgomery's bullshit before Havensworth elects him into the wrong office."
I nodded but my mind was already drifting back to a different time.
Ten years ago. I was on the football team with Bryce Montgomery. He was a year older, the quarterback, the golden boy. He was the kind of guy who made everything look effortless. Charm came to him like breathing, and everyone wanted to be near him, as if some of that shine might rub off.
Jamie was the quiet girl with auburn hair and sharp blue eyes who didn't seem to notice how many boys watched her walk down the hallway. She was smart and beautiful. Guys talked about her like she was a prize to be won.
I hated how they talked about her, but I never said a word because I was afraid of how I'd come off if I told them to shut up. I couldn’t draw attention to the feelings I wasn't supposed to have. So I stayed silent.
When Jamie started dating Bryce, I told myself it was fine. I'd see them together in the hallways between classes, his arm slung around her shoulders, her smile bright in a way that made my chest tight. She looked happy. That was what mattered. I had no right to want anything different.
Then one afternoon in the locker room, I heard Bryce talking about Jamie. He was holding court the way he always did, surrounded by guys who hung on his every word. I was at my locker, close enough to hear but not close enough to be part of the circle.
He talked about her first time, about what she let him do, about the sounds she made. He painted a picture with words that made me want to put my fist through the metal door in front of me.
The other guys laughed. They asked questions. They wanted details.
And I stood there and said nothing.
The rumors spread fast after that. Through the school first, then through Havensworth. Jamie went from the quiet girl with admirers to the girl everyone whispered about. The girl who had given herself to Bryce Montgomery and gotten burned for it.
I went looking for her a few days after the rumors started. I don't know what I thought I could do. I just knew I couldn't stay away.
I found her in a hidden corner behind the library stacks, curled into herself with her back against the wall and her knees pulled to her chest. She was crying in that way people cry when they don't want to be heard, her hand pressed over her mouth, her whole body shaking with the effort of staying silent.
She looked up when she saw me. Her eyes were red and swollen, and there was something broken in them that I'd never seen before.
I didn't say anything. I just sat down beside her and pulled her into my arms.
She let me hold her while she cried. I don't know how long we stayed like that. Long enough for my shirt to soak through. Long enough for the light coming through the windows to shift and fade.
I couldn't undo what Bryce had done. I couldn't take back the words he'd spread or erase the way her name now sounded in everyone's mouth.
All I could say was "I'm sorry."
Two words. They felt like nothing. They were nothing.
And now Bryce was back. Running for Solicitor. Smiling at Jamie in a grocery store like he had every right. Touching her arm like nothing had ever happened.
My jaw tightened.
"Sam?"
Tyler's voice cut through the fog. I blinked and found both of them watching me.
"Yeah." I cleared my throat. "Sorry. What?"
"You went somewhere," Tyler said.
"Just thinking."
Sean raised an eyebrow but didn't push. Tyler held my gaze for a moment longer, like he could see something I wasn't saying.
I looked away and took a sip of my cold coffee.
Thinking about Bryce Montgomery made my blood boil.
I wasn't sixteen anymore. And this time, I wasn't going to stay silent.
I had promised to go with Jamie to the City Attorney's office. She wanted to find out what could be done about Jack's LODD classification—what the process looked like, what documentation she'd need, whether an appeal was even possible.
On the drive over, I noticed her eyes tracking something outside the window. Campaign signs. Blue and white, staked into lawns every few blocks. brYCE MONTGOMERY FOR SOLICITOR.
"Doesn't Havensworth elect solicitors every four years?" Jamie asked.
"Yeah?"
"So why is Bryce already campaigning?"
"I heard the solicitor is stepping down due to health issues."
Jamie turned to look at me. "And Bryce is already campaigning?" She shook her head. "That's exactly the kind of move you'd expect from Bryce Montgomery."
It was good to see her more like herself. For weeks she'd been buried in funeral arrangements, guardianship paperwork, the endless machinery of grief. Watching her mind sharpen on something outside of all that felt like progress.
"Why is no one batting an eye at how inappropriate that is?" she asked.
"Maybe because he's a Montgomery."
Jamie shook her head and turned back to the window.
We parked and walked into the building together. The City Attorney's office was on the third floor, in a space that smelled like old carpet and stale coffee. The reception area was small, with a few chairs along the wall and a desk where a young clerk sat typing.
Jamie approached the desk. "Hi. I'm looking for information about appealing an LODD classification. My brother was a firefighter. He died in the line of duty, but the city ruled it as insubordination. I want to know what the process looks like to challenge that."
The clerk nodded and pulled out a form. "I can help you with that. Can I get some basic information? Your brother's name, the date of the incident, the station he was assigned to?"
"Jack Donovan. He was at Station 33. The fire was in January."
The clerk wrote it down. "And the basis for the appeal? What documentation do you have that supports—"
"Jamie! Sam!"
That voice. I knew it before I turned around.
Bryce Montgomery was walking through the reception area, a coffee cup in one hand and a leather folder tucked under his arm. He looked like he'd just come back from a meeting—suit jacket unbuttoned, tie loosened slightly, the picture of casual authority.
I knew Bryce worked here. I'd just been hoping—stupidly, in retrospect—that we'd be in and out before he noticed.
"What brings you two to my neck of the woods?"
Neither of us answered. The silence stretched for a beat too long.
The clerk looked up from her notes. "They're here about an LODD appeal, Mr. Montgomery. Jack Donovan's case."
The name landed in the room like a stone dropped into still water.
Bryce's expression shifted. Something flickered behind his eyes—Loss? Sympathy? I couldn't tell if it was real or performance.
"Jack Donovan," he said quietly. Then he nodded, like he was coming to a decision. "Thank you, Rachel. I'll take it from here."
The clerk looked uncertain. "Are you sure? I can—"
"I've got it." He smiled at her, warm and reassuring. "Jack was a friend. This should come from someone who knew him."
He turned to us and gestured down the hallway. "Why don't we talk in my office? More privacy."
It wasn't really a question. Jamie glanced at me. I could see her calculating—whether to refuse, whether to make a scene, whether there was any way out of this that didn't make things worse.
There wasn't.
We followed him down the hallway. I stayed half a step behind Jamie, watching Bryce's back, watching the way he moved through this space like he owned it. Which, in a way, he did.
His office was at the end of the hall. Corner unit. Big windows overlooking Broad Street. The kind of space that announced exactly how important the person inside it was.
Bryce held the door open for us, ever the gentleman. "Please. Have a seat."
We sat. He closed the door and settled into the chair behind his desk, leaning back like this was just a casual conversation between old acquaintances.
Of course he would insert himself into this. Of course Bryce Montgomery wouldn't let an opportunity to hold power over Jamie pass him by.
"I reviewed your brother's case personally," he said, his expression shifting into something that was meant to look sympathetic. "I understand this is difficult. Jack was a great person. But the facts are the facts."
"The facts are that he saved a child's life," Jamie said.
"The facts are that he disobeyed a direct order from his commanding officer." Bryce's voice was patient. Measured. The voice of a man explaining something obvious to someone who should already understand. "The building was unsafe. Command ordered everyone out. Your brother went back in anyway."
"Because a little girl was trapped inside."
"And that was brave. No one's disputing that.
" Bryce leaned forward, his expression softening.
"But if we classify every act of insubordination as line of duty, we're setting a dangerous legal precedent.
We're telling firefighters that it's okay to ignore their commanding officers as long as their intentions are good. "
Jamie's jaw tightened. "So heroism is a liability now."
"Recklessness is a liability." He said it gently, like he was delivering bad news to a friend. "The city can't afford to reward behavior that gets men killed. Taxpayers shouldn't be on the hook for benefits every time someone decides to play cowboy."
I watched Jamie's hands in her lap. They were still. Controlled. But I knew her well enough to see what that stillness cost her.
"I think what you're doing is important," Bryce continued. "The fire department needs reform."
Jamie's eyes narrowed. "How do you know about the proposal I'm working on?"
Bryce smiled. "Jamie, I make it my business to know what's happening in this city. Especially when it involves someone I care about."
I went rigid. Someone I care about. The words slid out of his mouth like oil, smooth and possessive, as if he had any right to claim concern for her after what he'd done.
"But if you want to be taken seriously," he continued, "if you want the city to listen, you have to be honest about the culture that led to your brother's death.
" He paused, letting the words land. "Jack was brave.
But he also disobeyed a direct order. He was reckless.
That mentality gets people killed. If you want your proposal to have teeth, you have to be willing to say that out loud. "
He was using her own argument against her. Taking everything she'd been building and twisting it into a weapon. And he was doing it with a smile, like he was helping her.
I wanted to put my fist through his face.
"This is what accountability looks like, Jamie." His voice was smooth. Righteous. "Making the hard calls even when they're painful."
Jamie was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was calm.
"Not sure you're the poster boy for accountability, Bryce."
Something crossed his face. There and gone, so fast I almost missed it.
Then he smiled.
"Havensworth might disagree." He leaned back in his chair, completely at ease. "But it's nice to know you still think about our time together with such fondness."
My vision went white.
I was on my feet before I knew I'd moved. Every muscle in my body was coiled tight, and the only thing keeping my hands at my sides was the fact that we were in an office full of lawyers where I could be sued for assault.
"I think we're done here."
Bryce looked up at me. His expression didn't change, but something shifted behind his eyes—a flicker of satisfaction, like he'd gotten exactly what he wanted.
"Of course." He stood, smooth and unhurried. "Jamie, my door is always open if you'd like to discuss this further. I really do want to help."
Jamie didn't respond. She gathered her folder and walked out of the room without looking back.
I followed her. I didn't trust myself to speak until we were in the elevator.
She was staring straight ahead. Her face was blank, but I could see the tremor in her hands.
"Jamie—"
"Don't." Her voice was steady. Too steady. "Not here."
The elevator descended. Neither of us moved.
I thought about Bryce's smile. The way he'd said our time together like it was something she should be grateful for. The satisfaction in his eyes when he watched her walk out.
He wasn't just blocking the LODD appeal. He was sending a message.
I have power here. You don't.
The elevator doors opened. Jamie walked out into the lobby, her shoulders straight, her chin up.
I followed her into the winter cold, my hands still shaking.