Page 36 of Never Forget
"No, I'm serious." She leaned forward. "What Jack did was heroic. He heard a little girl screaming and he went back for her. That's not insubordination. That's exactly what firefighters are supposed to do."
"I know."
Megan's jaw tightened. "I think about it all the time. What happens if Danny doesn't—" She stopped. Her voice caught. Danny reached over and took her hand, holding it steady on the table. She didn't pull away. "Our youngest is eight. Same age as that little girl Jack saved. If something happened to Danny, I'd have two boys to raise on my own. And I'd need to know the system would be there for us. That's why I looked into it. National standards, benefits, all of it. I needed to know what we'd have."
The kitchen was quiet.
"Line of duty means benefits," Megan continued. Her voice was steady again, but her hand stayed in Danny's. "Deathbenefits, pension continuation, education fund. Jack paid into that system his entire career. Rosie is entitled to what he earned. They're not just dishonoring him. They're taking money out of his daughter's future."
I hadn't thought about it that way. The financial piece. I'd been so focused on the injustice of the ruling, the insult to Jack's memory, that I hadn't considered what it meant for Rosie's future.
"Have you thought about pushing for reclassification?" Megan asked.
I looked at her. "What do you mean?"
"Appeal the decision. Fight it. Make them acknowledge what Jack really did."
I thought about Rosie. The photo of Jack she kept on her nightstand. The way she saidDaddy was a herowhenever she looked at his photo.
She was right. It was obvious. Jack died saving a child. That should mean something. It should be on the record.
"I'll look into it," I said.
Megan nodded. Satisfied. Like she'd known all along what I would say.
Rosie was coloring at the kitchen table when my phone buzzed.
Sam
Found something else of Jack's at the station. I'll bring it when I come by later.
I set the phone down and watched Rosie work. She was intent on her drawing, tongue poking out the corner of her mouth the way Jack's used to when he concentrated. She didn'tknow she did it. She didn't know how much of him lived in her small gestures.
The afternoon light slanted through the kitchen windows. Loretta was out for the day. It was just the two of us, and the house felt bigger without another adult in it. Quieter.
I picked her up from preschool an hour ago. Made her a snack. Sat with her while she colored.
But I kept thinking about what Megan had said. The fragmentation. The chaos. A system where help didn't come unless someone thought to ask for it.
And Jack. Going back into a burning building because no one else was coming. Because a little girl was screaming and he couldn't stand there and listen to it.
He died a hero. The city called it insubordination.
Rosie deserved better than that. She deserved to grow up knowing her father's death meant something. Not because I told her, but because it was written down.
The doorbell rang.
Rosie's head came up. "Who's that?"
"Let's go see."
I opened the door and Sam was standing on the porch with something small in his hand.
"Uncle Sam!" Rosie pushed past my legs and wrapped herself around his knees.
Sam crouched down and hugged her back, one arm around her small frame. "Hey, Rosie. Are you being good for Auntie Jamie?"
She nodded solemnly. "I'm coloring."
