Betrayal in the Arctic

By my third year at the Arctic research station, the endless cold had pushed my body to its limit. I went to Carl Tillman, our team captain, to submit my application to return home, but he turned me down. "I've already given the placement to Susan," he said. "Her health's too delicate for weather this harsh." Susan Farrow had only been here three months. I'd been here three years. Three years was the absolute limit any researcher was allowed to stay stationed here. I stared at him, unable to believe what I'd heard. "Carl, my complications are getting worse. I can't feel my legs anymore, and my eyes are going blurry. If I don't go back now, I'll die out here." He looked me over like I was making a scene. "You've always been strong as an ox. Are you really going to make things up just to compete with Susan for my attention?" He wrote Susan's name in the return slot and threw me out of his office. Outside, the wind and snow lashed at a face that had already gone numb. My husband of ten years had taken away my only chance to live—so he could dote on another woman. Chapter 1 I gritted through the stabbing pain and made it as far as the door before Carl Tillman called out, stopping me in my tracks. "Wait." My heart leapt. For one hopeful second, I thought he'd changed his mind about sending me home. Instead, without even looking up, he said, "Cover Susan's shift tonight. She wants to see the northern lights, so I'm taking her out to watch them." The smile froze on my face. I turned back, certain I'd misheard him. "Carl, the injuries have already numbed half my body. I need to rest." He paused, brow furrowing in irritation. "Still putting on that act? You dragged me through three days and nights during the avalanche. Don't tell me I don't know what kind of shape you're really in. Susan's naturally delicate. Don't go faking it just to copy her." He took off his glasses and pressed his fingers to his temples like I'd given him a headache. "Naomi, you weren't always like this. When did you get so petty and jealous? Susan's the youngest one on the team, and a girl besides. Is it really so wrong that I look out for her a little more?" Copying her? Jealous? It hadn't occurred to me that risking my life to save him ten years ago would one day become proof that I was too healthy to need saving myself. I laughed bitterly. Looking out for her. Right. He'd handed over his own glucose packet to Susan when my blood sugar crashed, and fobbed me off with a diet soda instead. He'd handed Susan his protective goggles during my snow blindness and told me to just tough it out. Every single time, it came down to the same story: Susan Farrow was too delicate, and I was too healthy—healthy enough, apparently, that even my one chance to go home and save my life had to be handed over to her instead. The pain was grinding through my nerves, and I didn't have it in me to argue anymore. Carl seemed to take my silence as defiance. "Enough," he said, voice gone cold. "Quit walking around half-dead all the time. Who exactly are you putting on that face for?" He crossed the room, grabbed my frostbitten arm, and scrubbed hard at the blue-black bruising. "Susan showed us the other day how different shades of makeup can fake a bruise that looks completely real. I didn't think you'd stoop to copying her just to make a scene over me." I hissed at the pain and yanked my arm back, and just like that, the urge to argue drained out of me. "Carl, Institute regulations require every researcher to rotate home after three years. It's because the human body can't survive extended exposure to this kind of cold indefinitely. Did you not know that?" His back stiffened for a second before he answered, voice mocking and impatient. "Other people are other people. You're you. How could their bodies possibly compare to yours? Susan especially—she's frail, she needs more time to recover at home, or she'll end up with permanent damage." I swallowed hard, nails digging into my palms. "She's only been back three months!" He froze. "So what if it's three months? She's weak and you're strong. Can't you just let her have this one?" Let her have it. Let her have my rotation so she could go watch the northern lights while I covered her night shift. Let her have the newly issued cold-weather gear because she complained hers was too thin. Let her have my husband's concern too, apparently, since even that was too delicate for her to go without. "Carl, I'm telling you the truth. I'm going to die out here." He scoffed. "Susan called it exactly right—the second you found out I gave her the placement, you'd start threatening to die on me." Something in me that had been holding on for years finally snapped. "Carl, are you my husband, or are you Susan's husband?" He grabbed my arm in a bruising grip and dragged me out the door, and before I could even process what was happening, he shoved me down into the snow. "You've completely lost it, going on and on like this. Sit out here and cool off." Chapter 2 The snow swallowed me whole. Wave after wave of bone-deep cold swept through my body until I felt the frostbitten patches go numb, one by one. A coworker finally spotted me and hauled me out. My mind had already started to fog over—one more gust of wind and I might have died right there. I pounded my chest, coughing violently, and Susan's startled voice cut through the ringing in my ears. "Naomi, what happened to you?" Her eyes went red, like she'd been the one wronged. "Was this really necessary, just because Carl wanted to take me to see the northern lights? If you didn't want to cover for me, you could've just said so. You didn't have to torture yourself over it." I shot her a cold look. "Drop the act." Carl stepped in front of her protectively. "Susan only wants what's best for you. Don't bite the hand that's trying to help." Susan grabbed my arm again, studying me with a suspicious tilt of her head. "Naomi, is that... frostbite makeup? Or is it..." "Or is it what?" Carl asked her gently, lowering his voice. Susan gave an awkward little laugh and shook her head, playing coy. "Never mind, I must be seeing things. You're his wife—why would you have filthy diseases?" Something shattered. Carl had crushed the bottle in his hand, his eyes locked on mine. "filthy diseases?" Before I could get a word out, Susan's gaze darted nervously between the two of us. "Captain, did I say something wrong? Naomi looks upset." Then, without warning, she pinched me, hard. "Oh, I must have been mistaken—a rash from a filthy disease wouldn't cover an entire arm like that." The pain was blinding. I flinched and shoved her hand away on instinct. Instantly, tears welled up in her eyes. "I already covered for you, and this is how you repay me? You hit me?" Carl rushed to check her over, then turned to me, his voice flat. "I already told Susan she could have the placement home. Don't take it out on her. Apologize." I clenched my jaw and glared back at him, refusing to budge. "I didn't do anything wrong. She's the one who pinched—" "Naomi," Susan cut in, eyes brimming, "it's fine if I don't go home. Take the placement instead. I don't want to be the reason you and the captain fall apart..." Carl's expression didn't soften. "Since you won't apologize, you can make it up to her instead. That jealous streak of yours needs to be dealt with. You're covering Susan's shift underground for the next two weeks. Don't bother coming back up." I'd already told him I had frostbite, and he was sending me forty below anyway. Shaking with fury, I turned on him. "Are you really that desperate to kill me off just to make room for her?" His throat worked, but no answer came. Behind him, Susan shot me a taunting glance before stepping in front of him again. "The captain's not like that, Naomi. Don't jump to conclusions." Whatever hesitation had flickered across his face vanished. His eyes went cold. "When are you going to learn to be as understanding as Susan? Is jealousy and suspicion all you're capable of anymore?" I could have had a better life than this. Instead, I'd spent ten years by his side in the Arctic for this. A blast of frozen air poured down my throat and swallowed whatever I might have said back. "As your captain," he said coldly, "I'm ordering you to go underground for shift duty." Then he wrapped an arm around Susan and walked off without a backward glance. Chapter 3 Back underground, my partner, Arthur Lowe, hurried over the moment he saw me, worry written across his face. "Naomi, what are you doing down here? Isn't Susan on shift today? Your body can't take this. You need to rest." He grabbed my arm, already pulling me toward the exit. "Come on, I'll take you back up." I laughed, hollow. "Captain's orders. Susan wanted to go watch the northern lights, so I'm covering her night shift." Arthur's face darkened. "Is she here to work or here on vacation? And you're in this state and he still—is he blind, or does he only have eyes for Susan?" I caught his arm and shook my head. "Forget it. He's completely convinced Susan's too delicate and made himself her personal knight. He's not going to listen to you." Arthur slammed his fist into the wall. "What about your rotation home? Has he set a date yet?" My throat tightened. "That went to Susan too." His jaw dropped. I'd already pushed myself past my limit, and everything went black. When I came to, only my teammates were around me. I lowered my eyes to hide my disappointment. "Where is he?" One of them rolled their eyes, annoyed on my behalf. "Worry about yourself for once. Forget that heartless man." He pulled up a recording and played it. Carl's voice, ice-cold, came through the speaker. "The wind's too strong up top. Susan can't handle it, so I need to stay with her. Tell Naomi to stop being so difficult—she's fine." My hands fisted around the sheets until my knuckles went white. "Arthur. Bring me a pen and paper." That was when Carl walked in with Susan trailing behind him. "See, she's completely fine," he said. "Just like Susan said." Arthur rounded on him, furious. "Do you not see how swollen her limbs are? Do you not see how pale she's gone?" Susan's eyes flicked back and forth, and she cut in before Arthur could say more. "Naomi's probably just on her period. Some swelling is totally normal then. Don't worry, I'll go make you some ginger tea in a bit." Then she added, with a knowing little smile, "Arthur is a man, after all—he wouldn't really understand a woman's body. Something this personal really isn't his place to help with." Carl's eyes went cold, like the suggestion had planted a seed of doubt. "Naomi!" I looked at him without a flicker of emotion, took the pen and paper from Arthur's hand, and wrote out a divorce agreement without hesitation. The moment Carl saw those words, his expression twisted. He snatched the paper and tore it to shreds. "Susan was right. You—" I cut him off. "Susan says, Susan says. There's no room in your head for anyone but Susan. So tell me, aren't I doing you a favor by setting you free?" His face went dark. Susan burst into sudden tears. "Naomi, I only ever thought of the captain as an older brother! Are you accusing me of coming between you two?" She fled the room in tears, and Carl's expression shifted before he chased after her. "Naomi, I'll deal with you when I get back," he said, then shot Arthur a sharp look. "I'm not agreeing to a divorce." Once they were both gone, I broke into a coughing fit so violent it felt like my chest was tearing apart. Arthur looked at me, full of sympathy. "Naomi." I shook my spinning head and forced a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. Just tired. I want to rest." I lay down and closed my eyes. After Arthur left, I opened them again and stared blankly at the ceiling. Chapter 4 Arthur brought me breakfast, but my throat could barely manage to swallow. "Arthur, come with me to get an urn. I don't have many days left. When it happens, take my ashes home for me." "Naomi..." He held my gaze for a long moment, then nodded anyway. At the supply depot, Carl and Susan were both there. She pointed at me, wide-eyed. "Naomi, are you and Arthur out here on a date?" Carl glared at me and yanked me toward him hard enough to bruise my arm. Susan reached over and turned the urn over in her hands. "Is this a gift from Arthur? The pattern's so distinctive—he really put thought into it." The base was too far from any city for real deliveries; only the occasional traveling vendor passed through, and none of them sold urns. I'd bought the nicest box I could find as a stand-in. Carl stared at me, waiting for an explanation. "Everyone deserves to go home in the end. When I die, I want this to carry my ashes back." His brow furrowed. "Stop using death to threaten me." I didn't bother explaining anymore. "I don't expect you to believe me." I turned to Arthur instead. "Let's head back." Susan covered her mouth, stifling a laugh. "Naomi, your imagination is really something. That box is way too delicate to hold ashes—it's basically a makeup case." Her voice dropped, sly. "I get that you're jealous the captain looks out for me, but you shouldn't keep piling pressure on him like this in front of everyone. What are people supposed to think of him?" Carl snatched the box from my hands and smashed it to the ground. "Enough, Naomi! How long are you going to keep this up? Susan's frail as she is, and she's never once made a scene like this. You're built like an ox—can't you stop embarrassing me?" I picked the box back up, brushed off the dust, and looked him dead in the eye. "I'm embarrassing you? The entire base knows I can barely stand anymore. Are you really that oblivious, or are you just choosing not to see it? Why don't you go ask the team doctor yourself?" He went quiet for a second before finally reaching for his phone. Susan tugged at his sleeve. "Captain, the doctor is Naomi's close friend. Can we really trust whatever she says?" He hesitated, then put the phone away and walked past me, his shoulder slamming into mine hard enough to stagger me. He didn't seem to notice—his face was pure disgust. "Naomi, you'll stop at nothing to win this placement over Susan. If I didn't already know your body could handle this, you'd have almost had me fooled. Go home and think about what you've done. You're not to leave your room until Susan's flight home." Arthur tried to speak up for me. I just squeezed his arm and answered flatly, "Fine." A week passed. My complications only got worse. I couldn't walk without a wheelchair anymore, and even squinting, I could barely make out shapes through the blur. I called Carl. "Carl, sign the divorce papers. I don't want to be buried next to you when I die." "How long are you going to keep up this act? I'm sick of it too, you know. Do you really think a strong, healthy woman like you can compete for sympathy against someone as delicate as Susan?" He let out a long breath. "I'll make sure you get the next rotation home, all right? Are you satisfied now? Just stop making scenes." The phone slipped from my hand. Arthur couldn't take it anymore. Without a word, he hoisted me onto his back. "We're done counting on Carl. Let's find the liaison. He'll get you home." I nodded, half-conscious. We finally made it to the liaison's door, only to hear Carl's voice again from inside. "Derek, don't believe a word Naomi tells you if she comes to see you. I know exactly what shape she's in—there's nothing actually wrong with her. I don't understand why she keeps trying to compete with Susan like this. Does she have no compassion at all?" My heart stopped. My chest clenched like a fist had closed around it. "Arthur," I whispered, "take my ashes home. That's my last wish." I went limp and slid off his back, my eyes falling shut. Something must have made Carl turn around—his pupils shrank, and he came running, stumbling over his own feet.