A few men looked at me, then quickly looked away.
The station itself seemed unnaturally quiet.
No loud television.
No joking.
No arguments coming from the kitchen.
Just silence.
For a moment, I assumed they had returned from a difficult call.
Tyler had explained those days to me.
Some incidents followed firefighters back into the station.
Maybe everyone simply needed time.
Then one firefighter glanced at the balloons.
His face changed.
He lowered his eyes.
Something cold formed in my stomach.
“Is Tyler around?” I asked.
Nobody answered.
That was when Captain Reyes stepped out of his office.
I had known him for years.
Normally, whenever I visited, he greeted me with something like:
“What did Tyler do now?”
Not that afternoon.
He looked at the balloons.
Then at the cake.
Finally, he looked directly at me.
The words seemed to stop the room.
“What?”
His face changed immediately.
“Amanda…”
“Know what?”
He glanced toward the others.
Nobody moved.
Then he said:
My heart started pounding.
“No.”
“Amanda.”
“Where is my husband?”
Captain Reyes took a step toward me.
“He isn’t here.”
“I can see that. Where is he?”
One of the balloons slipped free from my wrist and floated toward the ceiling.
Nobody reached for it.
“There was an incident this morning.”
My knees weakened.
“What kind of incident?”
“He was on a call.”
Tyler had been on hundreds of calls.
That sentence alone shouldn’t have terrified me.
But Captain Reyes’s expression did.
“Is he alive?”
His eyes widened.
“Yes. Amanda, yes. Tyler is alive.”
I finally breathed.
“Then where is he?”
