The Night I Refused to Save Her

The channel went silent.

A few seconds later, Emily sent a voice message.

Heavy rain hammered in the background.

"I really don't want emergency services involved."

"They have people whose lives are actually in danger tonight."

"I'd feel terrible taking resources away from them."

"My apartment isn't that bad yet."

"It's just your house is only ten minutes away, and Jake has that four-wheel-drive Jeep. I was hoping he could drop me at a hotel nearby."

Almost immediately, coworkers chimed in.

Emergency services are probably overwhelmed tonight. If we can avoid adding another call, maybe we should.

A four-wheel-drive Jeep should handle flooded roads way better than an Uber.

I replied.

The city issued a stay-at-home emergency order.

My brother is nineteen. He is not emergency personnel, and his Jeep is not a rescue vehicle.

If something happens to him, who's taking responsibility?

Emily answered almost immediately.

You're right. I shouldn't have asked.

I'll figure something else out.

I thought the conversation was finally over.

Then another message appeared.

Emily:

If I don't show up for work tomorrow morning, please call the police.

The Slack channel exploded.

Before anyone else could respond, our boss joined the conversation.

Michael:

Sarah, Emily reports directly to you.

I trust my managers to make sure nobody on their team is left stranded when people need help.

Jake looked over from the couch.

"Maybe I should just do it."

He was only nineteen. Still young enough to believe helping people couldn't possibly ruin his life.

I gently pushed his keys back onto the table.

"Sit down."

"But didn't she say her place was flooded? That she couldn't stay there tonight?"

"If her apartment is flooding," I interrupted, "there will be people helping her, not you."

I turned back to Slack.

Jake has personal commitments tonight and won't be going.

Emily, if you're truly in danger and we don't hear from you by tomorrow morning, I'll report it and make sure someone checks on you.

Almost instantly, someone replied.

Sarah... don't you think you're being a little cold?

Others echoed the same sentiment.

The notifications kept pouring in.

Then Michael tagged me directly.

I hope you're thinking this through carefully.

How we treat people during a crisis says a lot about our character.

A moment later, Emily uploaded a photo.

Dark floodwater covered the hardwood floor. A pair of pink slippers floated beside her bed. The water had already reached the mattress frame.

Then came one final message.

Emily:

Boss, please don't blame Sarah.