Special Treatment for Her, Not His Wife

When I finally found my father, Collin Rimes, he was crouched in a corner. My younger sister, Poppy Rimes, lay flat on a patch of empty ground beside him.

I watched Dad struggle to his feet, dust himself off, then carefully examine the injury on Poppy's head.

In that single instant, a wave of bitter sorrow bubbled inside me.

I walked forward and called softly, "Dad."

He looked up, panic flashing across his clouded eyes before it gave way to the familiar, ingratiating smile I'd seen countless times.

"You're here, Kenzie. It's nothing, really—just a scratch. Your sister's a tough kid. Captain Rubin is right. The rescue team has its own challenges, and there are plenty of people waiting to be helped. We can't expect special treatment."

Seeing Dad make himself so small made me clench my fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms. My throat felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, and I couldn't utter even a single sound.

As he spoke, his eyes instinctively darted toward one of the tents. Hope, then disappointment, flashed briefly across his face.

I cut him off, reaching down to scoop Poppy into my arms.

"Stop it. I'll carry Poppy. There are plenty of medical stations here. We don't have to go to him."

But for once, Dad raised his voice before quickly lowering it again.

"Don't. Kenzie…" he started, a hint of pleading in his voice. "Scotty didn't mean it like that. He's just too busy—overwhelmed, even. He's the captain. He has to treat everyone fairly. Otherwise, the people under him won't respect him.

"I understand where he's coming from. Let's just wait a little longer. Once things settle down, he'll definitely come over."

He rambled on and on, as though he were trying to convince me. Or perhaps he was just trying to convince himself.

The pain from my nails digging into my palms brought back a shred of clarity.

Scotty Rubin and I had been together for more than ten years.

I thought I understood him, but it wasn't until now that I realized I had never stepped into the confines of his heart.

My family and I had always been kept outside those invisible boundaries, and yet, for someone else, they could be flung open wide at any given moment.

Poppy weakly opened her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Kenz, don't blame Scotty. He's busy. It doesn't hurt."

She forced out a smile. On her pale little face, her large eyes—eyes that bore a slight resemblance to Scotty's—showed a level of understanding far beyond her years.

My nose burned, and I nearly burst into tears. I turned my face away, took a deep breath, and forced the surging emotions back down.

I got to my feet, no longer looking toward the tents.

"I'm going to go find some water."

The emergency relief camp had been set up on the elementary school's field. Rows of temporary canvas tents stretched across the ground, one after another. And everywhere I looked, there were people covered in dust, groaning and weeping.

That static hum of walkie-talkies crackled through the air. Dust, disinfectant, and the faint metallic scent of blood hung heavily over everything.

In a corner where supplies were piled, I managed to find a few bottles of water and a pack of emergency ration biscuits.

On my way back, I walked past a slightly larger tent with its entrance flap half-open. I inadvertently glanced inside, and what I saw rooted me to the spot.

Several military cots stood side by side neatly, each made up with crisp white sheets.

An elderly man with gray hair sat on one cot drinking water, while a middle-aged man beside him peeled an orange. There was also a younger woman nearby trying to soothe a crying child.

In the corner, a doctor in a white coat was organizing a medical kit.

Under the warm yellow glow of the emergency lamps, everything looked peaceful and orderly, as though it existed in a different world from the chaos outside.

A young woman wearing a volunteer vest walked in carrying a thermos.

"Mae, the hot water's ready," she said, her voice sweet. "Should I pour some for your parents?"

A soft, sleepy voice sounded. "Yes. Thanks, Tina. And could you hand that thermos to my grandpa? His stomach isn't great, so he needs to drink something warm."

I recognized the person speaking immediately. It was Maelyn Kilcher, Scotty's crush from his college days.

I clenched my fists tightly, and every drop of blood in my body seemed to freeze over at that instant.