Page 40 of Never Forget
But I kept watching Tyler.
He had been quiet since we sat down. He laughed when Sean made a joke, but it didn't reach his eyes. He kept turning his beer bottle in his hands, peeling the label off in thin strips, his gaze fixed somewhere past the table.
He'd been inside that structure when the stairwell collapsed. He'd been checking secondary rooms while the floor above him burned. If the wind hadn't shifted when it did, if the fire had reached the attic ten minutes earlier?—
Tyler knew. It was there in the rigid set of his shoulders, even if he'd never say it out loud. The weight of what almost happened.
And no one asked. No one noticed. Sean was celebrating the win, and Cap was letting him. The guys from Engine 7 were just happy to be part of a good story.
That was the culture. You carried the wins together and you carried the weight alone.
I thought about Jack. About the night he went back into a burning building because a little girl was screaming and no one else was coming. He'd been trained by the same culture. Trust the crew. Handle your own. Don't ask for help unless you absolutely have to.
And even then, maybe don't.
"Reeves."
I looked up. Sean was watching me.
"You're quiet tonight."
"Just tired."
"Tired?" He laughed. "We just pulled off a hell of a save. You should be celebrating."
I glanced at Tyler. He was still peeling his label, still not looking at anyone.
"Yeah," I said. "Hell of a save."
Sean held my gaze for a beat, then shrugged and turned back to the Engine 7 guys. The conversation moved on.
I finished my beer and stood up. "I'm heading out."
"Already?" Sean raised an eyebrow.
"Got some things to take care of."
Cap nodded. "Good work today."
Tyler looked up as I passed his chair. Our eyes met. Just for a second. Long enough to see that he wasn't okay, and he knew I was aware but neither of us was going to say a word about it.
That was the deal. That was how it worked.
I walked out into the night. The cold hit my face like a slap, sharp and clean after the stale heat of the bar.
Jack should have been here. He should have been the one walking out beside me, both of us carrying something we couldn't name. We could have driven home in silence together. We could have not talked about it the way firefighters don't talk about it, but at least we wouldn't have been alone.
I sat in my truck for a long moment before starting the engine.
The system didn't just fail him. It built him to fail. Built all of us to fail. Taught us that strength meant silence, that asking for help meant weakness, that carrying the weight alone was just part of the job.
I started the truck and drove home.
The apartment was dark when I got home.
I kept seeing Tyler's face at the bar. The way he peeled that label off his beer, strip by strip, not looking at anyone. Sean celebrating like we'd won something instead of getting lucky. Cap raising his glass.Damn right.
And underneath all of it, Jamie's voice.
