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"Excited to spend the day judging me?" Mirana asks Tim when she walks into the garage to see him with a pen and envelope. "What are you doing?"
"Filled out your evaluation," Tim says.
"No, you're not psyching me out," Mirana points an accusing finger at him. "Because you don't want me to wash out. You'd miss seeing my face every day"
"You washing out means you'll be in my bed all day, every day," Tim says with a smirk. "That sounds like a great result to me"
"You're an ass," Mirana says, opening the driver's side door.
"I know," Tim hums.
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Mirana drives the car down the street, her eyes scanning the street and she frowns when she spots smoke billowing from a house.
"7-Adam-19, requesting fire and RA units to South Victoria Avenue, structure fire of a residence," Mirana says into the radio before she gets out of the car, slamming the door closed.
"Someone help!" A woman screams.
"Ma'am, I'm here to help," Mirana says. "Is there anyone left in the house?"
"My son, James," The woman cries and Mirana nods.
"Where is he?"
"He's upstairs, last door in the hallway,"
"Control, ETA on fire and RA to South Victoria Avenue?"
"Eight minutes,"
"Shit," Mirana curses before turning to the frantic woman. "Alright Ma'am stay here with Officer Bradford, I'll go and get your son. Control, 7-Adam-19 entering the house"
Mirana hands Tim her radio as she sprints toward the police car, her movements fueled by adrenaline coursing through her veins. Opening the trunk, she grabs her spare t-shirt, swiftly dousing it in water.
Mirana reaches the front door before feeling the door handle, she gauges the intensity of the heat before executing a powerful kick, sending the door crashing open. The acrid scent of smoke hits her, and she adjusts her makeshift mask before stepping into the engulfed space.
The interior is a chaotic dance of smoke and flames, and Mirana drops to all fours, adopting a methodical crawl to navigate below the smoke as she ascends the stairs, her focus unwavering amid the thick, blinding haze.
"JAMES?" Mirana shouts. "JAMES CAN YOU HEAR ME?"
Reaching the furthest door in the hallway, Mirana summons her strength and pushes it open. The room reveals a small figure lying on the bed - unconscious. Without hesitation, Mirana stumbles to her feet, pulling the damp t-shirt from her face. She drapes it over James' small face, providing a makeshift barrier against the suffocating smoke, before lifting the boy into her arms.
