Your hand clamps tightly over your mouth as you stumble forward, eyes stinging, squinting through the thick, suffocating smoke. The world is chaos—sirens blaring from the fire alarm, heavy footsteps pounding in the distance, wood groaning under the heat.

And then—

“Is anyone still here?”

A voice, strong and clear, cuts through the haze. Female. Commanding. Hopeful.

You tear your hand away, coughing violently as you force your voice past the smoke choking your lungs.

“Here!”

Your cry feels small against the roar of the fire, but it’s enough. Boots thud closer, fast and sure, and through the gray you see them—firefighters, moving like trained shadows through the smoke.

“There she is.”

“Hang on—we’ve got you,” the woman says, her voice firm but calm.

She doesn’t hesitate. In one swift motion, she hoists you over her shoulder like you weigh nothing, carrying you through the inferno and out into the cool night air. The moment you’re out, a team of EMTs surrounds you, checking vitals, voices a blur as your heart tries to catch up.

And then—

She removes her helmet.

Blonde hair tumbles out in waves, catching the flicker of red and blue emergency lights. Sweat clings to her brow, ash streaking her jaw, but all you can do is stare. The name stitched onto her jacket reads Bishop, and you’re sure you’ve never seen a more beautiful firefighter in your life.

“Still with me?” she asks, crouching beside you, breath just a little winded but eyes sharp, concerned.