บททั้งหมดของ The Purrfect Love Story: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

The next morning, the firehouse felt different. The usual low buzz of voices, the smell of burnt coffee and disinfectant, all had this undercurrent of tension. Even Goose, perched smugly on top of the lockers, seemed to pick up on it. His tail flicked like he was waiting for someone to step out of line. I didn’t have to wait long. Kearns was at the whiteboard when I walked in, half-grinning like he’d been rehearsing whatever smart-ass thing he was about to say. “Well, well, if it isn’t our resident rom-com hero,” he said loudly enough for the whole station to hear. “Heard you’ve been a little distracted lately, Rosario. Everything good with the girlfriend situation?” The way he said girlfriend made it sound like a punchline. Dez, sitting at the kitchen table with his cereal, immediately jumped in. “Oh, you mean Carolina? She’s a writer. Probably turns his ass into a hero in every chapter. You should be flattered, man.” Nas snorted into his coffee. “Yeah, Kearns. Maybe if you were

The whole table was still buzzing after Ofelia’s little mic drop. Dez looked like he’d just watched a playoff upset. Nas was wiping beer off his chin. Even Lou cracked a grin behind her drink. And Bia… well, she hadn’t blinked since Ofelia called her out for projecting. I wasn’t gonna lie. Watching it unfold was almost better than getting a front-row seat to Dez’s off-key karaoke comeback. Almost. Carolina slipped her hand into mine under the table, her palm warm and steady. I didn’t even think about it, just curled my fingers around hers and kept them there like an anchor. I could feel her whole body relax beside me. Bia’s presence had wound her up tight all night. Ofelia had cut that cord in two minutes flat. “Remind me never to piss your sister off,” Carolina whispered, that smile I couldn’t get enough of tugging at her lips. “Best to just surrender early,” I murmured back. “She doesn’t take prisoners.” Bia sulked in silence, sipping her drink like it had personally offended he

When I arrived at the station for my morning shift, the air still smelled like burnt coffee and motor oil, the familiar mix that always hit me the second I stepped through the bay doors. Dez was already cracking open an energy drink, Nas was half-asleep on the couch, and Tomás was updating the maintenance log. It was the kind of calm morning that made you forget how quickly things could flip. For once, I actually felt… good. Lighter. Carolina saying yes to Nochebuena was still echoing somewhere in the back of my mind like a song I couldn’t shake. The thought of her sitting at my mom’s table, laughing with my sisters, maybe sneaking Goose scraps under the table, felt right. Real. Captain Lou Reyes spotted me before I even made it to the lockers. She was leaning against her office doorway with that sharp, assessing stare she always used when she was about to dig into someone. “Rosario,” she said, voice steady. “Got a minute?” The guys exchanged looks, as if they were watching a stude

The heat hit like a living thing the second we stepped off the truck. Smoke rolled through the air, thick and greasy, clinging to my skin even through the mask. The flames weren’t just burning, they were roaring, crawling up the side of the old brick complex like they wanted to eat the sky. Lou’s voice crackled over the radio, sharp and steady. “Station 9, take the lower floors. Station 12, you’re backup for the upper east wing. That building’s a damn tinderbox, so watch your footing. Nobody goes past the third floor until we assess.” We moved fast, laying lines, checking for survivors. The place was a maze of narrow halls and old plaster walls that crumbled when you brushed them. Dez and Nas flanked me, their silhouettes cutting through the smoke like ghosts. Every time the floor groaned beneath us, my heart stuttered. Then I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, Station 12’s crew heading up the east stairwell. Kearns was at the front, barking orders through the mask like he

The second the door clicked shut behind Carolina, I knew something had shifted. I could easily smell the moods of humans. The apartment smelled strange tonight, like hospital soap and winter air, with a sharp trace of smoke still clinging to Ace and something softer, salt and worry, clinging to her. It wasn’t bad. Just heavy. The kind of scent that told me my humans needed supervision. Ace moved more slowly than usual, his shoulders stiff, his right arm tucked in that weird fabric wrap that smelled like antiseptic. He tried to play it off, acting like the sling was no big deal, but even I could tell he was hurting. He always did that, pretending he was made of stone when he was really more like my scratching post: solid until someone pushed too hard. Carolina, though, looked worse. Her shoulders drooped, her hair messy from running fingers through it too many times. She had her big overnight bag hanging from one arm and her heart hanging off the other. She closed the door softly, l