Elena used to tell her stories every night before she went to bed. You know, there were, uh, there were moments when Elena was a really good mother to Andy. She’d make up these wild stories about princesses dancing until their shoes turned to dust. Oh, and the dragons, Andy really liked the ones about the dragons. Then when Elena wasn’t there to tell stories anymore, Andy couldn’t sleep for weeks. Hell, I couldn’t make up a story to save my life. So I’d just pull out my department radio, and I’d leave it on, and the two of us would listen to it together before bed every night. And I’d tell her about the calls that I went on that day, and her little eyes would get so wide in awe, and she’d call me a superhero, a fireman. She’d say it with the emphasis on man. Fireman.

Pruitt