Chapter 27

Lachlan

By the time I pull the engine into the bay at the end of shift, my shoulders feel welded in place, and my head's pounding hard enough to make the fluorescent lights personal.

We caught three calls after lunch: one kitchen fire that turned into a hoarder nightmare, one rollover on wet pavement, and one welfare check at an apartment complex I'd be happy never to see again. Same side of town.