Amelia sat quietly in the living room, listening to her father’s voice echo through the house as he made a tense call. Her mind raced as he spoke with someone at the construction company about their flood response. She overheard him mention the government’s efforts to help flood victims, but then his tone dropped, a quiet frustration in his voice.
“They won’t be able to get to the bigger centers in time. The roads are too bad. I need to focus here.”
Amelia’s heart skipped. “The bigger centers?” she whispered under her breath.
Clara, sitting nearby, spoke up softly, “They’ve all been flooded, but there’s one big center where the government’s efforts haven’t reached yet. I’ve heard some of the people there are stuck, Am. It’s bad.” She shifted uncomfortably. “If we don’t do something, they’re going to be left behind.”
Amelia’s gaze snapped to her father, who was still talking into the phone. Her mother entered the room, sensing the tension, and Clara continued, “Your family’s got the resources. The helicopter, the land. You could help get people there, get them to safety.”
Amelia, looked at Clara “That’s true. It might be the only way.” She turns towards her mother. “The helicopter could get them out of there before things get worse.”
Amelia’s mother spoke. “He’s already dealing with so much, the construction, the government’s demands… He needs to focus on the one’s he can save.”
Her father, overhearing the conversation, snapped, “I’m already stretched thin! There’s only so much I can do. If I bend backwards for everyone, it’ll just form a big mess.”
The room went silent for a moment. Amelia felt the weight of her father’s words. But she couldn’t give up. Not when so many people were out there, stranded.
“Please, Dad,” Amelia said softly, walking over to him. “You’ve always taught me that we should do what we can to help. We have the resources. We can help them—just the people at that one center. We can use the helicopter. The rest, they’ll have to wait. You know we can make a difference, right now, with what we have.”
Her father looked at her, his face still tight with frustration, but there was a flicker of something else. “I don’t want anything to do with it. I have enough on my plate as it is.”
But Amelia didn’t give up. She turned to her mother, silently asking for her support. Her mother met her gaze, nodding gently.
“You’ve always wanted to teach her the best way to use our privileges is to help when we can,” her mother said, her voice soft but firm. “This is that chance to let her learn it. We can’t just turn away.”
Her father sighed, in one hand his head and in the other his phone. He raises his head and says “I did say that, yet I am at full capacity right now. If I take on more then I can chew then no one is helped.”
“I know,” her mother said, “so let Amelia handle it. She old enough to help a couple people and it will teach her the responsibility you wanted to teach her. Just like you said.” Amelia looked hopefully at her dad.
Her father exhaled sharply, clearly unhappy but unable to ignore the pull of his family’s conviction. “Fine,” he muttered, “we’ll use the helicopter. But that’s all. No one enters the house. I’m not bending over backwards for anyone else. This is just a stopgap. Don’t get any ideas.”
Amelia’s heart raced. This was just the beginning. But it was a start.
With that, the plan was set. Amelia, with Clara and her mother by her side, would help coordinate the transport of people to the hill on their land. But Amelia knew this was just the first step. She would push for more. There had to be more that could be done.
***
Amelia stood at the edge of their family’s estate, watching as the helicopter blades whirled above them. The powerful machine was their only hope to get the people stranded in the flood zone to safety. Clara’s friends, a group of four, had been located at a high school that had turned into an emergency shelter, but they could only move the worst-off—people who were unable to evacuate on their own.
Among Clara’s friends were Lucas, a quiet, observant boy who had always looked out for others, and Sara, quick-witted and resourceful, even in the worst situations. They had been separated from their families, relying on each other to survive.
The helicopter made its first trip, flying low over the waterlogged town, the swirling gusts of air pushing the floodwaters around. Amelia could feel her heart pounding as the helicopter landed on the dry hill behind their house. The sun had set, but the work was far from done.
With Clara’s friends safe, Amelia and her family began creating a makeshift camp. They moved quickly, pulling tarps out of storage and setting up shelters on the dry, rocky hill. It wasn’t luxurious, but it was safe. Lucas, Sara, and the others quickly pitched in, setting up cooking supplies, first aid kits, and makeshift beds out of old blankets.
The group worked together under Amelia’s direction, as the helicopter made more trips back and forth, airlifting the most vulnerable.
The first few days were frantic, but as the floodwaters refused to recede, they found a rhythm. Clara’s friends started to settle in, each of them taking turns for guard duty and checking supplies.
By the fourth day, the hill had become a small community of survivors, and the weight of responsibility settled heavily on Amelia’s shoulders. The resources were limited—water and food were running low, and the constant worry of the flood waters creeping closer made every decision feel more urgent.
Amelia found herself spending hours with Clara’s friends, making sure they had everything they needed. Lucas had a quiet determination, constantly keeping an eye on their dwindling supplies, while Sara used her resourcefulness to create makeshift tools out of whatever they had.
“You know,” Lucas said one afternoon, as they all worked to reinforce the shelters, “I don’t think we’d have made it this far without you.”
Amelia smiled faintly, the weight of the praise sinking in. She had done what she could, but there was still so much more to do.
The helicopter’s final trip had been delayed by storms, and now there was no guarantee that more help was on the way. “We’re going to need more than just this hill to survive,” she murmured, staring out at the floodwaters that stretched for miles beyond their camp.
Clara came up beside her. “But we’ve made it this far, right? We’re still alive.”
“I know,” Amelia said quietly. “But we can’t stop now.”
As night fell, Amelia lay awake, listening to the distant sound of the storm, her mind racing with plans. She had to ensure their safety, but she couldn’t ignore the others who were still stranded out there, waiting for help.
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