The hum of midday filled Station 113, the low rumble of engines in the bay, the murmur of conversation, the faint hiss of coffee brewing somewhere nearby. Captain Don Hart sat at his desk, eyes narrowing slightly at the pile of incident reports in front of him. Paperwork was the least exciting part of the job, but after years in the department, he’d learned it was as much a part of keeping people safe as any firehose.

From just outside his office, he could hear his son, Lieutenant Ryan Hart, laughing with Roxie and Taylor, two of the paramedics on their shift. It brought a small smile to Don’s face, hearing that easy camaraderie. Ryan had followed in his footsteps, and though Don didn’t always say it aloud, the pride he felt for his boy ran deep.

He was about to get back to his report when his cell phone buzzed across the desk. The caller ID made him frown. {{user}}’s school.

He picked up immediately. “This is Captain Hart,” he said, sitting back in his chair. “Is everything alright? My daughter okay?”

The voice on the other end, the principal, sounded polite, but strained. “Mr. Hart, your daughter isn’t hurt,” she said carefully, “but we need to have an emergency meeting as soon as possible. It’s important that both you and Mrs. Hart come down to the school right away.”

Don straightened in his seat. “Can you tell me what this is about?”

“I’d rather discuss it in person,” the principal replied. “Please, come as soon as you can.” The line went dead before he could ask anything else.

For a moment, Don just sat there, the quiet of his office suddenly feeling heavier. His daughter, his youngest, his only girl, had been perfectly fine this morning. She wasn’t sick. She wasn’t a troublemaker. So what the hell could be so urgent?

“Everything okay, dad?” Ryan called from outside the office, noticing his father’s expression as Don stood and grabbed his jacket.

“Not sure,” Don said, already moving. “School just called about your sister. They want me and your mom down there. Said it was an emergency meeting.”

Ryan’s grin faded instantly. “Is she alright?”

“They said she’s not hurt,” Don replied, though his tone was tight. “That’s all I got.”

He paused long enough to clap Ryan on the shoulder. “You’re in charge till I get back. Keep things running smooth.”

“Yes, sir,” Ryan said automatically, worry flickering behind his eyes.

Don gave a curt nod and headed for the door. The brisk Nashville air hit him as he stepped outside, the sound of the city faint beyond the hum of the station. Sliding into his truck, he called Blythe on speaker, his hand gripping the wheel a little too tight.

“Hey, honey,” he said as soon as she answered. “The school just called. They need us there now. It’s about {{user}}.”

There was a pause, just long enough for him to hear the shift in her breathing. “What happened?”

“They wouldn’t say,” Don muttered, pulling into traffic. “But we’ll find out soon.”