Chapter 7 - INTERNAL AFFAIRS
The official interview happened two days later.
Captain Maria Torres from the department’s Office of Professional Standards sat beside a city attorney.
Mark was interviewed separately.
Alex was placed on administrative leave.
When I heard that, I felt almost nothing.
That frightened me.
Six years of marriage, and I was becoming numb faster than I thought possible.
Captain Torres asked me to describe everything from the moment the elevator stopped.
I did.
I told her about the child.
The elderly man.
The heat.
The failing ventilation.
My notes.
Valerie.
My decreasing fetal movement.
Then she asked the question I had been waiting for.
“Did Lieutenant Davis acknowledge seeing you before removing Ms. Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“In my hospital room.”
“Were there witnesses?”
“My mother and Firefighter Mark Reed heard part of the conversation.”
Torres wrote something.
Then she looked up.
“We also have video.”
My pulse changed.
“What does it show?”
“I cannot discuss conclusions before the review is complete.”
“That means it shows enough.”
The city attorney shifted.
Torres ignored him.
“We are also examining radio traffic.”
“Why?”
A pause.
“There was an instruction from incident command before entry.”
My body went still.
“What instruction?”
Torres looked at the attorney.
He gave the smallest nod.
“Rescuers were told to prioritize the pregnant patient, the elderly male with reported chest pain, and the child.”
I stared at her.
“Alex heard that?”
“Lieutenant Davis acknowledged the transmission.”
The room changed.
Until that moment, part of me had still allowed one possibility.
That Alex entered chaos and made a terrible emotional mistake.
But he had received explicit triage instructions.
Pregnant patient.
Elderly cardiac patient.
Child.
Valerie had not even been listed among the first three.
“What did Alex say?”
Torres folded her hands.
“He stated that when he entered the car, he believed Ms. Mercer’s cardiac history placed her at greater immediate risk.”
“He never assessed me.”
“No.”
“He never assessed the older man.”
“No.”
“He never assessed the boy.”
“No.”
My throat tightened.
“He ignored command.”
Torres did not answer.
She did not need to.
When the interview ended, Mark was waiting in the hallway.
He stood when he saw me.
“You okay?”
“No.”
He nodded like that was an acceptable answer.
We walked toward the elevators.
I stopped.
My body refused to move.
Mark noticed.
“Stairs?”
“Yes.”
Neither of us made a joke.
We reached the lobby slowly.
Outside, reporters waited behind barriers.
The rescue had become news.
PREGNANT WOMAN LEFT IN ELEVATOR WHILE FIREFIGHTER CARRIES EX-GIRLFRIEND.
Someone had leaked enough of the story to make headlines.
I looked at Mark.
“Was it you?”
“No.”
I believed him.
Then my phone buzzed.
A new email.
No sender name.
One attachment.
Audio file.
The subject line contained five words.
ASK WHAT VALERIE TOLD HIM FIRST.
I opened it.
Static filled the speaker.
Then Valerie’s voice came through.
Clear.
Close.
Recorded inside the elevator.
“Alex will come for me.”
A woman asked, “How do you know?”
May you like
Valerie laughed softly.
“Because he always does.”
