Page 34 of Rescue My Heart

Inside the trailer, the makeup artist greeted her with a warm smile and began working, covering up Mazey’s fatigue with layers of concealer and foundation. Mazey sat in silence, going through the motions. She wished she could ask someone about McKenna, whether she’d shown up or was planning to later, but she held back. She didn’t want to invite questions or raise suspicions. There were already too many rumors swirling around about her personal life, and she didn’t need to fuel them further.

As the makeup artist finished, Mazey took a steadying breath and headed toward the set by the riverbank. She tried to focus on the scene. The director ran her through the sequence, pointing out the different positions along the rocks, the path she’d need to follow, and the timing of her movements to dodge the most dangerous currents. The technicalities felt overwhelming, but Mazey nodded along, doing her best to absorb the instructions.

"Are you sure you’re good with this, Mazey?" the director asked, concern flickering across his face. "We can always use a stunt double if you don’t feel up for it."

"No, I’m fine," she said, steeling herself. "I’ll be careful."

He nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. "Just remember, if you feel uncertain, take a step back. We’ve got plenty of time."

She smiled back, but her mind wandered to McKenna. Part of her couldn’t help but imagine McKenna’s voice in place of thedirector’s, that firm, grounded tone that always carried an edge of concern. She’d wanted to see McKenna today, maybe just to know she still cared enough to show up.

She made her way to the starting point of the scene, her heart pounding as she stood at the riverbank. The currents looked more aggressive up close, the water swirling around jagged rocks that glinted like teeth under the sun. Mazey took a deep breath, tightening her grip on the safety rope attached to her harness. In that moment, she felt a flash of doubt, her mind spiraling back to McKenna, as if she could steady herself by holding onto those memories. She wished McKenna were here, her presence a balm against the nerves knotting in her stomach.

"Ready!" the assistant director called out, and Mazey gave a final nod, stepping into position.

The scene unfolded as planned—at first. Mazey moved along the bank, fighting to stay balanced as she mimicked the struggle of her character, desperately clinging to safety above the roaring current. She focused on her breathing, on the choreography drilled into her. For a while, everything went smoothly. Then, as she reached a critical point, her foot slipped, catching on a wet patch of rock. Her body jerked forward, momentum pulling her faster than she could catch herself. The world blurred as she tumbled down the embankment, hurtling toward the rushing water below.

Panic seized her as she hit the icy water, the chill knocking the air from her lungs. She struggled to breathe, but the relentless current pulled her under, the world becoming a frantic, violent swirl of bubbles and force. Rocks jabbed into her sides and scraped her arms, and she fought to keep her head above water, desperate for air. In that terrifying moment, her mind went blank, save for a single thought: McKenna. She wished McKenna were there to pull Mazey to safety.

But McKenna wasn’t there. Not this time.

Hands reached into the water, gripping her harness and yanking her up toward the surface. She coughed and gasped as she broke free of the river’s icy grip, still dazed but relieved to feel solid ground beneath her. The person pulling her back wasn’t McKenna but one of the stunt supervisors. His face was lined with concern, and his gaze was purely professional, assessing her for injuries as she sat on the bank, catching her breath.

“Take it easy,” he said, patting her back gently as she coughed up water. “You had a close call there.”

Mazey nodded, trying to compose herself. She was soaked through, shivering as the adrenaline faded, leaving her both shaken and oddly empty. She kept her eyes trained on the ground, willing herself to feel something other than dread. A faint voice called from behind, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Ms. Snow, we need to check you over before you’re cleared to shoot again,” someone from the medical team said, motioning for her to follow. She forced herself up, her legs weak and unsteady as she headed toward the trailer where the medics waited.

And then, from the corner of her eye, she saw McKenna.

McKenna stood by the riverbank, her arms folded and her gaze fixed intently on the rapids. Dressed in her fire department gear, she looked completely in her element, commanding the scene with an air of authority Mazey had never seen before. Mazey’s heart thudded as she approached, unsure if McKenna would even acknowledge her.

“McKenna,” she said, her voice catching slightly. “Didn’t think you’d be here.”

McKenna turned to her, expression unreadable. “I was asked to supervise the scene,” she said curtly, her tone all business. “Looks like it was necessary.”

Mazey winced. McKenna’s voice was clipped, devoid of the warmth and humor that had marked their last encounter. She tried to muster a smile, hoping a touch of lightheartedness might break the icy tension. “Guess I couldn’t stay out of trouble even if I tried, huh?”

But McKenna’s face remained impassive, her attention already back on the safety team. “Safety protocols are there for a reason. If you’d followed them, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

The words stung, and Mazey’s attempted smile faded. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen McKenna this cold and detached. It was as if every trace of their personal connection had been scrubbed away, leaving only professionalism between them. Mazey wanted to say something to bridge the distance, to at least let McKenna know she was glad to see her there, but McKenna’s closed-off stance made it clear she wasn’t interested in small talk.

As if sensing Mazey’s hesitation, McKenna gave her a curt nod. “You should get checked by the medics,” she said, her tone carrying no trace of concern. “We’ll reconvene once you’re cleared.”

Mazey swallowed, feeling a pang of disappointment. She’d hoped for some flicker of warmth, maybe a private word away from the others, something that reminded her of the connection they’d once shared. But McKenna was all business, and Mazey could feel the wall between them as solidly.

She turned to walk toward the medics, casting one last look back at McKenna, but McKenna had already resumed her duties, gesturing to the crew and discussing the next steps. Mazey’s chest ached as she watched her from a distance. This wasn’t the McKenna she’d known. The one who laughed with her, who teased her, who looked at her like she saw right through the glamour and walls Mazey put up for everyone else.

Once the medics had checked her over, pronouncing her shaken but unhurt, Mazey headed back to the riverbank where the rest of the crew waited. She noticed McKenna off to the side, going over notes with one of the stunt coordinators. Summoning her courage, she approached again, hoping for a second chance at a conversation that didn’t feel so…cold.

“Hey, McKenna,” she began, trying a casual tone. “Thanks for coming out here today. It…means a lot.”

McKenna barely looked at her, her eyes scanning the clipboard as she nodded. “It’s my job,” she replied, moving to another point on her list. “I’ll do whatever’s necessary to keep this set safe.”

The words landed heavily, as if a door had just been closed in Mazey’s face. She felt a rush of frustration mixed with a pang of regret. She wanted to reach out and break down the wall had gone up between them, but McKenna’s professionalism was unyielding. It was clear she wasn’t here as a friend, let alone as anything more.

“Right, of course,” Mazey said, forcing a smile that felt brittle. “Guess that’s all I could ask for.”

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