Chapter 10 - Clear Frequencies
Fourteen months later.
The summer sun beat down on the manicured lawns of the Ohio Statehouse, turning the bronze statues of civil war heroes into gleaming monuments against a cloudless blue sky.
Inside the Statehouse Atrium, the air conditioning hummed softly over the murmur of three hundred firefighters, medics, city officials, and their families gathered for the Columbus Division of Fire’s annual promotional and commendation ceremony.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the women’s locker room, adjusting the collar of my brand-new white lieutenant’s dress shirt. On my shoulders were the polished brass bugles of a Paramedic Lieutenant.
Pinned above my left breast pocket was the division’s Medal of Merit, awarded for our rescue of a trapped family from a burning four-story brownstone on Parsons Avenue six months earlier.
Behind my left ear, completely invisible beneath my neatly pinned hair, sat my permanent, custom-fitted medical audio processor.
It didn't whistle. It didn't buzz. It captured the world in sharp, brilliant detail: the rustle of programs in the atrium, the low laughter of firefighters sharing stories, the distant, rhythmic chime of the city clock tower striking eleven.
“Lieutenant Bennett,” a voice called out from the doorway.
I turned.
Maya Lin stood there, grinning ear to ear, holding two iced lattes from the bakery down the street. She was wearing her own dress uniform, her paramedic stripes freshly pressed.
“Captain Ross is looking for you,” Maya said, handing me a cup. “He says if you’re late to your own promotional pinning, he’s demoting you back to checking inventory on Medic 4.”
I laughed, taking a sip of the cold brew. “Tell the old man I’m walking out right now.”
We walked down the marble corridor together.
In the sunlit atrium, sitting in the front row of reserved family seating, were Leah and Uncle Robert.
Leah was glowing, wearing a bright yellow sundress. With Uncle Robert’s encouragement, she had moved out of her parents’ home in January, enrolled in the nursing program at Ohio State, and was currently pulling straight A’s while working part-time in the emergency department at Wexner Medical Center.
Beside her sat Uncle Robert, who had taken his four best lumber yard foremen and launched Buckeye Valley Building Supplies—a clean, honest, thriving wholesale business that had already secured contracts with three major regional homebuilders.
When Uncle Robert saw me walking down the center aisle, he stood up and applauded, his eyes shining with unreserved pride.
My parents were not there.
They had sold the house in Upper Arlington at a court-ordered short sale in September. They were living in a small two-bedroom rental condo near Marysville, closer to the state prison where Lucas was currently serving his fourteen-month mark.
I hadn't received a phone call, a letter, or a text message from either of them in over a year. The silence was not an empty void; it was a peaceful, wide-open expanse where my real life had finally taken root.
“Attention to orders!” Chief Hendricks’ voice boomed across the atrium speakers.
The room snapped to silence. Three hundred uniformed personnel rose to their feet in a single, synchronized wave.
I walked up the carpeted steps to the stage, stopping before Captain Daniel Ross.
Ross looked at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine, paternal warmth. In his calloused hands, he held the gold lieutenant’s badge, bearing the city seal and my department badge number: 418.
“Lieutenant Emily Bennett,” Ross said, his voice carrying clearly without a microphone. “For exceptional leadership, technical mastery, unwavering integrity under extreme adversity, and dedication to the citizens of Columbus.”
He pinned the gold shield over my heart.
The room erupted into applause. Maya whistled loudly from the front row. Leah was wiping away tears while Uncle Robert cheered until his face turned red.
Ross leaned forward, stepping into my good side, his hand gripping my shoulder with firm, absolute support.
“How does it sound, Lieutenant?” Ross whispered with a faint grin.
I looked out across the sun-drenched room—at Maya, at Leah, at Uncle Robert, at the brotherhood and sisterhood of men and women who had stood like a fortress around me when my own blood tried to tear me down.
May you like
The frequencies were clear. The static was gone.
“It sounds perfect, Captain,” I said. “Every single word.”
