Page 9 of Igniting Her

“Search was behind us.”

“Ten feet behind you after you left the assigned position. You had no completed primary, no confirmed overhead conditions, no independent rapid-intervention crew in place, and no life hazard reported. You chose to increase risk to two firefighters in order to protect inventory,” Cassie said in an infuriatingly neutral tone of voice.

“To prevent a chemical fire from escalating,” Ellie defended herself.

“The chemicals were inside a rated room with a self-closing door. HazMat confirmed afterward that the containers remained intact despite heat exposure. The protection did exactly what it was designed to do.”

“We didn’t know it would hold.”

“Correct. We also didn’t know the roof would hold. The difference is that one uncertainty involved property and the other involved my crew.”

Nobody moved.

Ellie felt every person at the table trying not to look at her. “If we’d waited until every uncertainty was resolved, we’d have gone defensive.”

“If conditions had worsened while we waited, yes.”

“And lost the building,” Ellie said.

“Buildings are allowed to lose.” The answer landed without drama. Cassie folded her arms loosely. Her scar showed pale against the inside of her forearm. “Your argument depends on the outcome,” she continued. “You know the attack worked, so you’re treating success as proof that the decision leading to it was sound. It isn’t. Command does not get to use what happened afterward to justify what was unknown before.”

Ellie opened her mouth.

“You also keep beginning your calculation at the nozzle,” Cassie said. “I was responsible for the roof, the wind, the yard exposure, four interior firefighters, the arriving companies, the water supply, and the possibility that the security guard was wrong. Your view was valuable. It was not complete.”

That was the part Ellie could not dismantle. It sat between them, infuriatingly solid.

Cassie waited a moment. “Anything else?”

Ellie could have said no. She could have let the room breathe again. She didn’t. “I still think the faster push was defensible.”

Cassie’s mouth tightened and eased again before Ellie could read it. Anger would have been easier. “Then you’ll use the afternoon to practice the distinction between fast and complete,” she said. “Six additional ladder evolutions after apparatus check. Full sequence. None of them timed. Mo will observe.”

Heat climbed Ellie’s throat. “Yes, Captain.”

Cassie picked up the marker. “Now. Ventilation.”

The crew exhaled as one organism. Ellie sat through the remaining twenty minutes with her expression arranged into professional attention and humiliation burning clean through her uniform. Fury would have given her something to resist. Cassie’s calm left her with six ladders and the unbearable possibility that she had deserved them.

By four, Ellie’s arms shook when she reached overhead. She completed every extra evolution without cutting a corner. Mo did not time her, praise her, or offer advice unless she asked. He only watched the locks, the angle, the footing, and once told her to reset when the ladder’s heel shifted half an inch on the concrete.

Afterward, Ellie went straight to the gym. The rowing machine took the first edge off. Deadlifts took the second. She loaded the bar again, though the pull in her shoulders had stopped being useful ten minutes earlier.

Mo appeared in the doorway carrying two bottles of water. “If you damage your back, Priya will blame me for allowing this.”

“Then don’t allow it.”

“I just said she’d blame me. I didn’t say I was going to interfere.” He set one bottle on the bench.

Ellie stripped one plate from each side harder than necessary. Metal struck rubber with a blunt sound. “If you’re here to explain that Everett humiliates everyone equally, save it.”

“She doesn’t.”

“Much better.” Ellie scowled.

Mo leaned one shoulder against the frame. “She’s hardest on the ones with real talent.”

Ellie laughed once. “Is that printed in the employee handbook?”