Chapter 22: The Birth of Mr. Fox
Sienna's voice lingered in my mind as she abruptly leaped off the couch as if propelled by a cannon. She rushed through the apartment with the same fierce energy she had displayed at the construction site while searching for lost tools or scolding sluggish colleagues.
"I'll return shortly!" she shouted behind her, her voice filled with enthusiasm as she snatched her phone from the countertop.
Before I had a chance to ask about her actions, she was already in the next room with the door closed.
I remained seated, gazing at the somewhat wrinkled blanket we had shared, my mind racing in the stillness she left.
The pressure on my chest seemed diminished—as if I had been breath-holding for weeks and had just breathed out.
She stayed.
She didn't run, didn't recoil. She stayed.
But now that the emotional dust was settling, reality crept back in with its sharp edges.
I had work to do.
With Sienna in the loop, I could finally start tackling my Firefighter job without the constant fear of being caught juggling two roles. She could cover for me if an evaluator showed up at the construction site, claiming I was sick or injured—hell, even taking a mental health day. The perfect alibi.
The only hurdle was the paperwork.