“You don’t have to tell me. Not unless you want to.”

He drew up the memories that for so long had played front and center in his nightmares. It had been a normal day. He could still feel the first rays of the sun shining through the window of the firehouse as he’d talked to his buddy about which football team was going to make the playoffs. “Nothing about the day said it was going to be life-changing, life-threatening.”

It was true what they said about life changing on a dime and you just never see it coming. “Maybe I’ve been a firefighter for so long that I take the risks for granted. Maybe I got too confident that I could make it out of anything.”

In his mind, he could hear the alarm blare throughout the station. All of their trucks were called out for a residential fire. “That call didn’t start out feeling any different than any of the others. When I climbed in the truck, I was already thinking about kicking back that night and watching the game.” His body tensed.

“As we pulled up to the house, the smoke was already billowing from it. I was one hundred percent focused on my job. It’s like a switch inside gets flipped on.” The images came rushing back to him, and his voice faltered.

He shouldn’t have opened up this door into the past. There was a reason he’d never discussed all of the details of the incident with anyone. He’d only ever uttered what needed to go into his report.

When Hannah spoke, her voice was soft and soothing. “I can’t even imagine what you faced.”

Even though his pulse was racing, he had to keep going. He had to prove to himself that he was stronger than the memories.

“The air…it had an acidic smell. It wasn’t good.” In his mind’s eye, he was back there. “There were flames in the back of the structure. Our team went in first. The smoke…it was everywhere. I made it upstairs. I found a little girl hiding in her closet. She’d been huddled there, sobbing for her dog.” The memory of her frightened pleas for help echoed in his ears. “She wouldn’t leave without her dog. I promised if she quit fighting me and came with me that I’d find her dog—at least I’d hoped to find him.”

Hannah reached out and gripped his hand. She didn’t say anything. Nor did she act as though his uneven burn scars fazed her at all. Just her touch said more than words could ever convey.

“After I’d handed the girl off, I searched for the dog. I didn’t have much time. And then I spotted a small dog hiding in the corner of the living room next to the couch. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing but I prayed he was alive.”

Hannah’s grip on his hand tightened. He wanted to glance at her but he didn’t dare. He was afraid if he became distracted he wouldn’t get the rest out. He had to keep going. The end was in sight.