Chapter 2

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The first aid tent was bustling with activity, a haven of controlled chaos in the aftermath of the storm. Medics moved swiftly, tending to the injured, offering comfort and care. I sat on a cot as a medic carefully bandaged the cut on my head. The pain was dull but persistent, a reminder of the ordeal I had just survived.

"There we go," the medic said, securing the bandage. "That should hold for now. You'll want to change it at least once a day until it's healed. You've got a mild concussion, but otherwise, you're in good shape considering everything. Take it easy for the next few days, okay?"

You nodded, offering a small smile of gratitude. "Thank you."

"You're all clear to leave. If you need any supplies or a place to stay there's a red tent next to us that has blankets, clothing, food, and water. They're also helping get people a place to stay for the night if you need it," the medic continued before she moved on to the next person.

As I gathered my things and prepared to leave the tent, my eyes wandered, taking in the scene around me. That's when I saw him - Tyler - on the other side of the tent. He was talking to a girl with blonde hair pulled up with a claw clip. Her face was streaked with dried blood. She looked pretty banged up, her clothes torn and dirty.

I watched as Tyler reached down and gently brushed a piece of hair from the woman's face, tucking it behind her ear with a familiarity that sent a pang through my chest. My mind immediately flashed back to the days when he used to do that for me, a simple gesture that had always made me felt cared for.

Who is she? I wondered. Clearly, he knows her, but to what extent? Is this just someone he helped out of their destroyed home earlier? Probably not, I reasoned. It's a small town, and I know just about everyone. And a hair tuck behind the ear seemed a little personal for someone he would have just met.

My mind spiraled further. Was she a new fling? That month's flavor? Or maybe she was something more serious - a girlfriend? The thought gnawed at me, a mix of curiosity and jealousy twisted in my gut. I looked away, trying to push the thoughts from my mind.

As I stepped out of the tent, the late evening air hit me. The devastation around me was immense, but the resilience of the people here was palpable. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the fact that I had survived and that I was safe, at least for now.

Later that night I sat in a hotel room. It was modest but clean, a temporary refuge arranged by the volunteers. They had set me up in a hotel the next town over, giving me a place to stay while I figured things out. The American Red Cross had provided me with a change of clean clothes and some toiletries, small comforts after the harrowing day I'd endured.

I stood under the hot spray of the shower, letting the water wash away the grime and stress of the day. The heat soothed my sore muscles, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to relax. But the relief was short-lived. My mind kept drifting back to Phoebe, my beloved cat, and the worry gnawed at me. Where was she? Was she safe?

After the shower, I dressed in the clean clothes provided, feeling somewhat refreshed but still weighed down by the enormity of my situation. I sat on the edge of the bed, the unfamiliar surroundings making everything feel more surreal.

How do I even begin to pick up the pieces of my life after something like this? I didn't have any family. My parents were gone and I was an only child. I suppose I could try to reach out to my aunts or uncles. See if they could provide any sort of help.

The loss of my home, the uncertainty of the future - it all felt overwhelming.

And then there was Tyler. I couldn't stop thinking about him and the blonde woman I'd seen him with at the first aid tent. The image of him tucking her hair behind her ear played on a loop in my mind. Who was she to him? Why did it matter so much to me?

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