The ambulance bay is empty for now. My partner, Charlie, is already inside, halfway through a glazed donut and pretending to read a training manual.
“Morning,” he says, licking sugar off his thumb.
“Hey.” I nod, dropping my bag in the corner. “You already finish inventory?”
He shrugs. “Mostly. Still gotta stock the trauma kit and check the defib. Want it?”
I grin. “You always give me the fun jobs.”
He flips me off and heads for the coffeemaker.
Stocking’s routine—gloves, gauze, Narcan, airway tubes. I know every shelf in that ambulance by muscle memory. Charlie hums along to some old soul song crackling through the intercom. Outside, the rain’s finally dried up, but the skies still wear that washed-out look that feels more November than spring.
By noon, I’ve reloaded every bin, double-checked oxygen levels, and run diagnostics on the monitor. Charlie’s already slacking off in the break room. He mouths the word “lunch” like it’s a prayer.
I nod and grab my wallet.
Downtown’s quiet this time of day. Some of the shops close for an hour around lunch. Bakery’s always open, though. That woman, Cora, works like she’s got bees in her blood. Sugar Haven’s warm and smells like heaven, but I’m not headed there.
No. Because, I see her.
Sadie.
She’s sitting on a bench across from the library, right under that crooked old oak tree with the bark peeling off in flakes. Her legs are folded up, long black dress falling around her like smoke.
She’s sketching, focused, her pink-streaked hair tied up in a loose ponytail. Her boots are scuffed. Her jaw’s tight.
Approach slow, Boone. Don’t spook her again.
I cross the street, each step careful, not wanting to come off like some overeager puppy. I’m in uniform still, badge and all.
She looks up just as I reach her, and the second our eyes meet, she snaps the sketchbook shut.
“Hey,” I say, keeping my tone easy. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
“You didn’t,” she replies. Her voice is dry, like gravel sifted through silk. “You were stomping.”
I grin despite myself. “That bad?”
She gives me a half-look, then glances down at my shirt. “So… paramedic?”
“Yeah. Boone, by the way.” I shift my weight, thumbs hooking into my belt. “I just wanted to say sorry again. About this morning. I wasn’t paying attention.”
Sadie shrugs. “It’s fine.”
“I picked up your order,” I add quickly. “The cocoa and the scone. But my boss is an animal and inhaled both.”
One side of her mouth twitches. “That’s alright.”
There’s something in the way she looks at me. Like she’s cataloguing me, not for threat level, but for… usefulness. I don’t mind it. But I’m aware she’s ready to bolt any second.
“You met Shepard, right?” I continue. “In the library? And Gabe, I guess.”
“Gabe,” she echoes. Her face shifts. Recognition? Surprise?
What’s that about?
“Yeah, we’re packmates,” I offer. “Kind of family, actually.”
