Page 29 of Dr. Roz Harrington
“Yes, you are,” Sam pressed, her voice rising slightly. “Every time I bring up how much this secrecy is weighing on me, you change the subject. You tell me it has to be this way, but you don’t even acknowledge how it’s affecting me.”
Roz’s gaze flickered, a crack in her otherwise impenetrable façade. She leaned against the desk, her hands gripping the edge as she exhaled sharply. “Do you think this is easy for me?”
Sam softened slightly at the vulnerability in Roz’s voice, but the frustration bubbling inside her refused to be ignored. “I think it’s hard for both of us,” she said, her voice quieter now. “But I’m trying, Roz. I’m trying to make this work because I care about you. But I can’t keep doing it like this.”
Roz’s lips parted as if to respond, but she hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to do this.”
Sam’s heart clenched. “Do what?”
Roz looked up, her eyes filled with something raw and unguarded. “This. Be…open. Vulnerable. It’s not who I am.”
Sam stepped closer, her voice soft but insistent. “You don’t have to have it all figured out, Roz. I’m not asking for perfection. I’m asking for honesty. For you to meet me halfway.”
Roz’s eyes locked onto Sam’s, and for a moment, Sam thought she might finally break through. But then Roz shook her head, the walls slamming back into place. “This isn’t just aboutus,” she said, her voice sharper now. “My career, your career… If anyone found out...”
“I know the risks,” Sam said, cutting her off. “Believe me, I know. But if we keep hiding like this, it’s going to tear us apart.”
Roz flinched at the words, her hands gripping the desk so tightly her knuckles turned white. “You think I don’t care?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly. “You’re all I think about some days, Sam. But this isn’t just about what we want. It’s bigger than that.”
Sam’s chest tightened at Roz’s admission, but the tension didn’t ease. “I don’t need you to have all the answers, Roz. I just need to know you’re willing to fight for this. For us.”
Roz looked away, her expression tight. The silence that followed was deafening, and Sam felt the weight of it settle heavily in her chest. Finally, Roz spoke, her voice barely audible. “I need to get back to work.”
Sam blinked, the words hitting harder than she expected. “Fine,” she said quietly, her voice laced with hurt. “But you can’t keep pushing me away. Not forever.”
Roz didn’t respond, her eyes fixed on the desk as Sam turned and walked out. The door clicked softly behind her, but the sound felt deafening.
Back in the hallway, Sam leaned against the wall, her hands clenching into fists. Her heart felt heavy, her frustration boiling over as she replayed the conversation in her head. She wanted to believe Roz cared, wanted to believe they could make this work. But the cracks were beginning to show, and Sam wasn’t sure how much longer they could hold on.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and for a moment, she thought it might be Roz. But when she pulled it out, it was only a message from the firehouse. With a sigh, she tucked it away and pushed off the wall, forcing herself to keep moving.
Even as she walked away, the weight of Roz’s words and the silence that followed stayed with her.
The firehouse was unusually quiet for the middle of the day, save for the faint hum of the radio crackling with dispatch updates in the background. Sam sat at the head of the table in the briefing room, her arms crossed tightly across her chest as she stared down at the notes in front of her. Her team had gathered for a post-drill review, but her usual sharp focus was nowhere to be found.
“Quinn?” Jack’s voice cut through the silence, snapping her out of her thoughts. He was sitting across from her, his expression equal parts curious and concerned. “You wanna weigh in on that?”
Sam blinked, realizing she hadn’t caught a word of what was being discussed. “Sorry, what?”
Jack raised an eyebrow, glancing around at the other team members, who exchanged hesitant looks. “We were talking about the hose deployment during the last drill. Radmore slipped up on his positioning.”
“Oh. Right.” Sam straightened in her chair, her tone sharper than intended. “He needs to keep his footing tighter. Can’t afford mistakes like that in the field.”
The rookie in question, Malcolm Radmore, seated a few spots down, flinched slightly but nodded. “Yes, Captain. Sorry about that.”
Sam waved a hand dismissively. “Sorry doesn’t cut it when lives are on the line. Do better.”
The room fell silent, the tension thickening as Sam’s words hung in the air. Jack cleared his throat, stepping in to diffuse themoment. “Radmore, we’ll run it again tomorrow. Practice makes perfect, yeah?”
The rookie nodded again, grateful for the reprieve. The rest of the meeting dragged on, Sam barely contributing as her mind kept circling back to her conversation with Roz. By the time she dismissed the team, the frustration simmering beneath her surface felt like a live wire ready to snap.
As the firefighters filed out, Jack lingered behind, leaning casually against the table. Sam was already gathering her notes, her movements tense and hurried. “You want to tell me what the hell that was?” Jack asked, his tone low but pointed.
Sam didn’t look up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Cap.” Jack crossed his arms, his gaze steady. “You’ve been off all day. Hell, all week. And now you’re biting Radmore’s head off over a minor mistake? That’s not like you.”
Sam sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as she turned to face him. “I’m fine, Jack. Drop it.”
