Page 27 of Playing With Fire
Becky was quiet for a moment, and Evelyn could almost hear the gears turning in her mind. Finally, she said, “Evelyn, you’re one of the sharpest people I’ve ever worked with. You know how to read a situation, make the tough calls, and get results. But I think you’ve forgotten something important.”
Evelyn frowned. “What’s that?”
“You’re not just fighting for the department or the budget or whatever agenda the city’s pushing,” Becky said. “Sometimes, the fight you need to win is for yourself. Not the job.”
Evelyn leaned back in her chair, the words hitting her with unexpected force. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’ve been so focused on doing what’s expected of you—on being the professional, the fixer, the one who never falters—that you’ve lost sight of what you actually want,” Becky said. “You want to save the department, sure. But you also want Cass. And you’re afraid to admit that to yourself because it doesn’t fit into the neat little box you’ve built for your life.”
Evelyn’s throat tightened. “It’s not that simple.”
“It never is,” Becky agreed. “But let me tell you something I learned the hard way: If you keep choosing the job over your own happiness, you’ll wake up one day and realize the job isn’t enough. It won’t hold you at night. It won’t challenge you in ways that make you better. And it damn sure won’t love you back.”
Evelyn stared at the photo frame she had turned face down earlier, her heart aching. “I don’t even know if she’d take me back,” she admitted.
“That’s not the point,” Becky said firmly. “The point is whether you’re willing to take the risk. Whether you’re willingto fight for something that scares you, even if it means putting yourself out there.”
Evelyn swallowed hard, the weight of Becky’s words settling over her. “I don’t know if I can.”
“You can,” Becky said, her voice unwavering. “You’ve got it in you, Evelyn. I’ve seen it. You’ve just got to get out of your own way. And if it doesn’t work out? At least you’ll know you gave it everything you had. But if you walk away now, without trying, you’ll regret it. Trust me on that.”
Evelyn closed her eyes, the fear and doubt swirling inside her. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Start by being honest,” Becky said simply. “With yourself and with her. Tell her how you feel and what you want. It’s scary, I know. But it’s worth it.”
Evelyn nodded slowly, even though Becky couldn’t see her. “Thank you, Becky.”
“Anytime,” Becky said warmly. “And Evelyn? Don’t forget, you’re human. You’re allowed to want things. Don’t let anyone, least of all yourself, convince you otherwise.”
The call ended, but Becky’s words stayed with Evelyn, echoing in the quiet of her office. She sat there for a long time, her thoughts churning. For the first time in years, she felt a flicker of something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in far too long: hope.
Evelyn adjusted her blazer as she walked into the city council chambers, her heels clicking against the polished floor. The space felt cold, clinical—the kind of room designed to strip emotion from every decision. She glanced at the long conference table where the council members were already seated, their facesa mixture of impatience and disinterest. This was going to be an uphill battle, but she hadn’t come this far to back down now.
Taking her seat at the end of the table, Evelyn spread her papers neatly in front of her. The proposed budget lay on top, its bold red highlights a glaring reminder of the cuts they had expected her to implement. Cuts that would gut the fire department. Cuts that would cost lives.
“Ms. Ford,” Councilmember Graham began, adjusting his glasses as he looked over the papers in front of him. “We’ve reviewed your latest budget suggestions, and quite frankly, we’re expecting more decisive action. The city’s finances are non-negotiable.”
Evelyn straightened her back, her expression calm but firm. “I understand the financial constraints, but the current proposal is not acceptable. It will compromise the department’s ability to function effectively and put the community at risk. That’s a line I won’t cross.”
Councilmember Patel, a sharp-eyed woman with a reputation for her no-nonsense approach, leaned forward. “Evelyn, we’re not asking for your personal feelings on the matter. We’re asking for solutions. If the fire department can’t make these cuts, where do you propose we find the funding?”
Evelyn took a steadying breath, meeting Patel’s gaze. “I have a proposal that avoids the drastic cuts while still addressing the budget deficit.”
That got their attention. Graham raised an eyebrow. “We’re listening.”
Evelyn slid a packet of documents across the table. “I’ve identified areas where we can redirect existing funds without sacrificing critical services. For one, the municipal fleet’s vehicle replacement program can be deferred for a year. That alone frees up a significant portion of the budget.”
Patel frowned. “The fleet program is already overdue. Those vehicles are barely holding up as it is.”
“And yet,” Evelyn countered, “the fire department has been making do with decades-old equipment. If they can manage, so can other departments. Additionally, I’ve spoken with private donors who are willing to contribute to the department’s operating costs in exchange for increased visibility in community initiatives. It’s not a permanent solution, but it buys us time to reassess priorities without resorting to layoffs or station closures.”
There was a murmur of interest around the table. Councilmember Rivera, who had remained quiet until now, finally spoke. “Private donors? That’s…unconventional.”
“It’s not ideal,” Evelyn admitted, “but it’s better than gutting a service that saves lives. The fire department isn’t just a line item on a spreadsheet. It’s the difference between life and death for the people in this city. I’ve spent weeks with them. I’ve seen their dedication. Cutting their resources would be a betrayal of everything they stand for.”
The room fell silent. Graham tapped his pen against the table, his expression unreadable. “You’re asking us to delay other critical programs and bring private money into public services. That’s a hard sell.”
Evelyn nodded. “I know it’s not a perfect solution, but it’s the only one that maintains the integrity of the fire department while addressing the financial realities we face. It’s a compromise, but it’s a fair one.”