"Confused. Coughing badly."
"How did you get him out," I asked.
"I grabbed his arm and pulled," she said.
"He's not that big. I just kept pulling toward the window."
"That window was your entry point too," I said.
"How did you get him through it?"
"It wasn't easy," she admitted.
"But adrenaline helps more than you'd think."
I studied her carefully.
The magnitude of what she'd accomplished stunned me.
"The firefighters arrived right as I got him onto the lawn," she continued.
"They took over from there."
"And your arms," I asked.
"I touched something hot climbing back out," she said.
"It's really not that bad."
I gently lifted her sleeve.
I examined the careful bandaging underneath.
"This needs proper medical attention," I said firmly.
"I already went to the hospital," she said.
"Before I came home. They checked everything."
I felt relief flooding through me.
She'd handled even that detail with quiet, mature responsibility.
"Why didn't you call me," I asked.
"I would have come immediately."
"I didn't want you worrying all night," she said.
"I knew you'd want to celebrate today."
"I didn't want this taking that away from you."
I shook my head slowly.
Her selflessness extended even toward protecting my own emotional experience.
"Renata," I said. "You saved a man's life."
"Nothing could ever be more important than that."
She smiled slightly.
Genuine relief crossed her tired expression.
"Is he okay," I asked. "Mr. Callahan."
"The officers said he's stable," she said.
"Smoke inhalation, mostly."
"They think he'll recover fully."
I pulled her close again.
I needed to simply hold my daughter.
For several more minutes.
Before processing anything else.
The following days brought considerable attention.
Local news outlets started calling.
Word had spread fast throughout our community.
I remember the first reporter calling our house.
Our quiet life had suddenly become public.
Neighbors stopped by with casseroles.
Strangers left flowers on our porch.
The local paper ran a small article first.
Then a bigger one.
Then television stations called.
"Would Renata be willing to share her story," one reporter asked carefully.
I discussed it with Renata directly.
This decision belonged entirely to her.
"I don't want attention
