Page 18 of Haze of Obedience

I would agree with him, but I'm not going to give her the satisfaction. I say to Malin, "You're easily impressed."

He scrunches his face and shakes his head. "Whatever." Then he secures her bandage. "You can probably take this off tomorrow."

"Thank you. You've been very kind."

Malin glances quickly between us then nods and goes over to Emilia.

"So, Dirk. Are your parents disappointed?"

"My dad's not. Not sure about my mom."

"Why is that?"

"She died shortly after I was born."

Her eyes widen, and she puts her hand over her mouth. "Oh God. I'm sorry. I...oh jeez." She closes her eyes.

"It's fine. Happened a long time ago." I toss a few packs of food on her lap. "All you have to do is open them. Shouldn't be hard, even for a little diva like you."

I continue distributing the items then leave the tent.

I need air.

It's not her fault. She didn't know, but she hit my hot button.

My mother was German, and my father is Mexican-American. Everyone says I take after my mom since I look more European than Mexican.

My parents met when my dad was in the military. After they got married, he brought her home to Texas. My two older brothers were six and three when she died. I was only a few days old. She held me once, but my birth complications were too much for her body, and she passed.

My grandparents grew up in Mexico. After they got married, my grandfather got a work Visa and became a migrant worker. When a job became available in a packing plant, and he could get permanent residency, he sent for my grandmother. They became citizens, and my father was born after.

Once my mother died, we moved in with my grandparents. Growing up, we only spoke Spanish in my house. Every few years, we would visit my relatives in Mexico. I have a large family of cousins, aunts, and uncles not too far from the Texan border that I still keep in touch with even though my grandparents are both dead.

I walk the perimeter of the camp and talk to a few of the guys guarding it. After an hour or so, I’ve cooled off, and I head back to the main area.

I'm almost back to the tent when I run into Zoe. "For crying out loud," she mutters. The mud is so thick that it covers one of her shoes. She tries to pull it out, but her other shoe sinks further into the ground.

"What are you doing out here?"

She jumps but tilts her head up. "Looking for you."

My heart beats faster. "Why?"

"I wanted to apologize."

"No need. We're fine."

She studies my face, and a line grows deeper between her eyes. "Are we?"

"I'm good. Are you good?"

She slowly nods. "Yeah."

"Do you want some help out of the mud?"

She winces. "Please."

I scoop her up in my arms, and she laces her fingers behind my neck. Her face is inches from mine.