The Night I Was Saved

Chapter Seven

"So, Hero," my chef, James Hanson says, his tone serious yet friendly. His hands are folded in front of him and resting on his desk, and even though we're in the office, I feel as if I'm interrogated. It doesn't sit right with me. "How are you doing?"

I know we're not here because he wants to small talk; he could've done that in the cafeteria down the hall. He asked me to come here because he wants to talk about what transpired eight days ago, and to be honest, I don't want to tell him everything because I fear he'll catch on that his motives for this conversation are as accurate as it can be.

"I'm good, chef. I'm still very much liking my work, and I feel as if I'm at the right place. Working with Dwight and Nancy goes smooth, too."

He nods his head, actively listening to what I say. His expression stays serious, and I know what's coming next without thinking twice.

"That's good to hear," he starts, his hands unfolding and sliding a document from the corner so that it's laying in front of him. "I've read about Case 736."

I fight the urge to roll my eyes as I hear his reverence. Case 736. As if Josephine and Daisy are nothing more than numbers. I fucking hate it.

"What about it, chef?" I try to keep my tone and expression neutral. I don't want him to see what kind of battles are going on inside my head while thinking about this case.

"Must've been a shock for Dwight and you; walking into an apartment while expecting a cat, but then finding a woman in labor on the floor." He raises his left eyebrow while he looks at me expectantly, waiting for my reaction.

But again, I don't let any other facial expression take over. "We had to switch fast," I agree while nodding my head. "But once I got into proper contact with the woman, everything went on autopilot."

Hanson nods while his eyes light just slightly. "And you two acted according to protocol and saved the woman and her child, which I'm very proud of."

I nod my head in thanks. "We were determined to get them out of there healthy and safe."

Compliments of Hanson are rare, and therefore I would take them over a bonus any day. Well, maybe not any day, but today I would.

"And it has come to my attention that you take that very seriously, even now still," he counters, cutting to the reason for this conversation smoothly.

I cross my arms in defense, even though I can't read his expression and therefore do not know if I must defend in the first place. "Meaning?"

A barely-there chuckle leaves his throat, which he hides by a made-up cough. "We're in close contact with the hospital for purpose of the case, and they've told us that you've been visiting them every day."

"I don't see the problem with that," I counter immediately, taking Hanson by surprise. "What I do in my free time is my business, not anyone else's. Thereby I'm doing my job, very good at that, and I'm-"

"You don't have to defend yourself," Hanson interrupts me, his hands now mid-air and up to me to stop me from talking. "We're not here because I question anything you do."

"Then why are we here?" I ask him, sounding harder than intended. When Hanson asked me if I had a minute to spare, I wasn't jumping to say yes. I've had a tough day-shift, and right now all I want to do is go home to take a shower and then visit Josephine and Daisy for a bit, just like I promised her.

The past eight days have been a whirlwind of emotions, half of them I'd never felt before. I feel emotionally drained, yet at the same time, I crave more of it because I've never felt more alive than I do now.