“The Chief’s hurt real badly, Donna,” her father was saying. They were standing with their backs to Brooke. Her father was at the sink, washing his hands, her mother was at the stove, stirring something that Brooke begrudgingly admitted smelled delicious. “There was a chemical fire in a smelting factory. He took a group of guys in and things went bad.” He slumped at those words.
Her mom reached a hand out and rubbed his back. “Is he going to survive?”
“He’s been touch and go since it happened this morning. One of the vats full of liquid metal collapsed. Some freak accident. If he would have been standing five feet closer he wouldn’t have had a chance. He got lucky enough to be far away when it happened, but that’s not saying much.
“And Donna, here’s the kicker. The vat had li
