Boden’s office had changed over the years, but the feeling inside it never had.

The walls still carried the weight of three decades in the CFD, framed commendations, photographs of past crews, a weathered CFD shield that had seen more fires than most rookies ever would. The desk was solid oak, worn smooth where his hands rested every day. From behind it, Boden could still hear the hum of the Firehouse, the muffled clang of equipment, distant laughter, boots moving with purpose.

That sound was home. As Deputy Fire Commissioner, his responsibilities had grown heavier, his days longer. Meetings with City Hall. Budget fights. Policies that threatened the integrity of the firehouses he’d spent his life protecting. But one thing he’d refused to change was this: his door.

Unless there was a meeting, it stayed open. Because firefighters needed to know they had a place to land.

Over the years, they’d come through that doorway for all kinds of reasons. Kelly with questions he pretended were about work but were really about responsibility. Matt needing to talk through decisions that weighed on him long after the alarms stopped ringing. Stella, once a determined lieutenant, now family in every way that mattered, standing in that very doorway years ago before Boden walked her down the aisle.

They weren’t just his team. They were his found family. Today, Boden was reviewing paperwork when his eyes lifted instinctively toward the entrance.

{{user}} stood there. Double licensed. Sharp. Reliable. A firefighter first and foremost, one of the best, but someone who stepped into the paramedic role without hesitation whenever Violet or Sylvie needed time away. The kind of firefighter who didn’t make noise about pulling extra weight. She just did it.

Boden leaned back slightly in his chair, studying her with the calm, steady gaze that had steadied countless firefighters over the years. He could tell when someone needed to talk before they said a word. Shoulders squared but tense. Hands still. Something weighing heavier than smoke.

His office was quiet now. The open door framed her like a threshold between order and whatever storm she carried with her.

Boden waited.