She watched him approach, his posture stiff, his expression unreadable.

In turn, Bette stepped forward to meet him. Despite the early hour and the surprise of his arrival, she managed a small, genuine smile.

“Wilson,” she said, her voice low but warm. “It’s good to see you.”

He stopped a pace away from her, his gaze steady as always, but something behind it flickered with tension.

“And you, Bette,” he replied, his voice even. Then he offered her his hand in a rare gesture of formality, one that said this meeting was not borne out of routine friendship.

She took it, squeezing gently. “You came by van. That’s not like you.”

“I needed to come quickly,” Wilson said. “I am not alone.”

Only then did Bette notice the other figure who had now stepped out of the van and in an instant her surprise laced joy at seeing her friend unexpectedly this morning, dampened as her eyes remained focused, past Wilson’s shoulder on Elijah standing several meters back, half in shadow.

She stilled completely, the breath catching in her throat.

Her gaze narrowed as recognition dawned, sharp and immediate. She looked back at Wilson, then again at the man behind him, disbelief flickering across her features. Her hands settled on her hips, shoulders drawn tight beneath her light work shirt.

“Is that—?” she began, but the rest caught behind her teeth.

Wonder, confusion, and a ripple of unease crossed her face as she took another glance at the figure still standing off to the side, his head slightly bowed, his presence carefully distant.

She turned fully toward Wilson, her voice low but firm. “You brought him here?”

Wilson nodded once, expression unreadable.

Bette’s jaw tensed. She turned slowly back to Wilson, her voice quiet but edged with steel.

”Why?” she asked. ”Why bring him here?”

It wasn’t an accusation, not yet but there was a weight behind the question. A lifetime of protecting what she’d built, the people and animals she loved, hung in the space between them. Wilson, who rarely acted without thought, held her gaze, saying nothing at first.

Bette’s arms crossed tightly over her chest. “After everything he’s been part of, why would you think I’d open my gates to him?”

Wilson didn’t flinch. He stood as he always did, anchored, unyielding. His gaze, steady and patient, met hers with the weight of shared history.