The wail of sirens echoed through the neighborhood as Station 19’s rig pulled up in front of a small, smoke-filled house. Flames licked at the windows on the side, and thick, gray smoke poured from the open front door. The crew sprang into motion with practiced urgency—helmets on, hoses uncoiled, commands sharp and clear.

Andy Herrera was the first to step off the truck, scanning the front yard for signs of life. Her eyes landed on a young woman standing barefoot in the grass, a flannel thrown over her shoulders and a small dog clutched tightly in her arms. The woman was shaking, eyes wide with a mixture of shock and helplessness as she stared at the burning home.

Andy jogged over, her voice steady. “Ma’am, are you hurt? Is anyone else inside?”