Chapter 3: The Camp of Strangers

When I woke up, I found myself in a tent filled with the scent of rubbing alcohol and medicine.

The light inside was sharp and unnatural—lanterns burning somewhere out of sight. I blinked, confusion thick in my throat, the pain in my back a low throb.

An old man with a white beard leaned over another guy—one of those tough-looking cops in a bulletproof vest, silver badge catching the lantern light.

The old man moved quietly, hands steady as he bandaged the man’s side. The police vest glinted under the lamplight, and the air buzzed with tension, like something dangerous was always just about to happen.

I stared blankly at the man’s familiar face and called out instinctively.

"Mom..."

Of course I knew he wasn’t, but I couldn’t help looking at him with red-rimmed eyes.

The word slipped out before I could catch it. Shame prickled my skin. The man’s eyes flashed, sharp as broken glass, and I shrank away, heart pounding.

The man looked at me coldly and frowned.

"Are you blind?"

His injury was at the waist, and now his vest was half off, revealing half his chest and abs—obviously nothing like "Mom."

He looked like every war movie cop I’d ever seen—hard jaw, cropped hair, eyes that missed nothing. For a second, I saw something softer flicker across his face, but it vanished as quickly as it came.

I stared at him blankly, blinking, trying not to let the tears in my eyes fall.

Mom once said I look ugly when I cry.

I sucked in my cheeks, biting down hard on the inside of my mouth. If I started sobbing, I’d never stop.

"You look a lot like my mom."

Both the old man and the armored man in the tent were stunned.

The old man quickly explained to the man.

"Captain, this kid was rescued from the jaws of that wild dog by the guards last night, with a bullet wound in her back. The lieutenant thought a kid this size would be easy to question, so he had me patch her up first, then ask her about the prairie when she wakes."

The captain nodded, then looked at me again.

"Can you speak English?"

I nodded.

The old man stared at me for a while.

"Are you from around here? No, your eyes are blue... you..."

The old man seemed to think of something, paused, then looked back at the captain.

"You know, this girl’s features do look a bit like yours, but the senator’s daughter has already been found, so..."

The captain’s gaze at me grew colder.

He squinted, his lips pressed into a thin, hard line. I suddenly felt very small beneath his stare.

"Who is your mother?"

I looked at his cold brows and eyes, pressed my lips together, and swallowed the words "senator’s daughter."

"You can go see for yourself. She was blinded and locked in the livestock pen. They want to use her to threaten you when fighting breaks out."

I tried to keep my voice steady, but my hands twisted in my lap. If he wouldn’t help, who would?

"Threaten?" The captain touched the baton beside him, his eyes flashing coldly. "The fate of the country—how could a woman’s life change that? If she really is the senator’s daughter, then she oughta die for her country. Can’t let one person mess up morale."

My heart felt heavy, and my eyes darkened.

The words sat like stones in my chest. I thought of my mom, her thin hands, the way she’d talk about duty and sacrifice when she was lucid. But this was different. This was abandonment.

"She’s locked in the most neglected pen now, guarded only by a couple. It’s not hard to save her..."

The captain sneered.

"Is this the trap you Plains people set?"

His words were icy, thick with suspicion. I flinched, not quite understanding, but knowing it meant no one would help.

He would even kill her.

The tent went quiet. I could hear my own heartbeat, loud as a drum.