Thirty-Seven
Vertical Farm B
Finan offers me a pair of heavy canvas chest waders and a flannel shirt to go over my clothes that are definitely not appropriate for fire abatement. “We’re going to get very wet, and no one other than our firefighters has proper gear. These will at least keep you from getting chilled.”
Reluctantly I slide them on, grateful they’re not so huge I can’t move or even sit properly in his truck. He races across via our conjoined driveway to my cabin so I can replace my impractical but gorgeous McQueen sandals with those godforsaken hiking boots so I don’t end up injured and useless. When I climb back into the truck, he’s on speaker with Ainsley.
“But is anyone still inside the building?”
It’s hard to hear her over the yells of people in the background, but she
