I became the father of an infant I discovered abandoned at my fire station five years ago. Our life together felt complete until a woman knocked on my door, terrified, and made a request that completely upended my world.
That night, the windows of Fire Station #14 shook with the howl of the wind. Joe, my partner, entered the room while I was halfway through my shift, drinking lukewarm coffee. His face was smirking as usual.
He pointed at my cup and taunted, “Man, you’re gonna drink yourself into an ulcer with that sludge.”
It’s caffeine. It functions. “Don’t ask for miracles,” I retorted with a smile.
Joe took a seat and began looking through a magazine. The streets were silent outside, the unnerving stillness that makes firefighters nervous. A faint wail that was scarcely audible over the wind was heard at that moment.
