“Because he didn’t do it,” he said simply. “Not this time. Elijah wasn’t responsible for the last kifaru’s death,” he said evenly. “That wasn’t him. But he is in trouble, deep trouble and it’s catching up with him faster than he can outrun it.”

Bette’s brow furrowed. Her eyes flicked again toward Elijah, who stood just beyond the van, head slightly bowed, his hands still at his sides.

“He was told to kill someone,” Wilson continued, his voice low, deliberate.

Bette’s arms loosened slightly, just slightly, confusion pushing against the walls of her resolve. “Who told him to do that?”

Wilson didn’t answer immediately, but he didn’t need to.

“Chang,” she said, the name falling like a stone between them.

Wilson gave a single nod. “But he disobeyed Chang. He brought the man, he was supposed to kill, to the village last night because he didn’t know where else to go.”

Bette’s breath caught. Her gaze darted past Wilson again to where Elijah stood, still rooted to the spot, shoulders squared against the judgment he hadn’t yet heard. The back of the van seemed to almost pulse in the rising shimmering heat or maybe it just appeared so because of what or who it hid.

“So you brought him here, instead, knowing what that could mean for us,” she said slowly, not quite a question.

“I brought him because if anyone can figure out what to do next… it’s you,” Wilson replied. “This isn’t about forgiveness, Bette. It’s about survival. His. Yours. All of ours.”

Bette exhaled, slow and tight. She rubbed the back of her neck, her heart pounding in her throat.

“I also brought him to you,” Wilson added gently, “because he has chosen not to be that man anymore.”

She stared at Elijah from across the way, unsure if she was looking at a liability… or the first crack in the armour of the man who might help dismantle Chang’s hold from the inside.

Finally, she spoke, her voice low.

“Then I suppose he’d better start talking. Have him take the van around the back,” she said, voice measured. “Behind the milk preparation area… where it’s quiet. We’ll talk in the old quarantine shed. It’s secure, and it’s not in use at the moment.”

As Wilson walked away back to Elijah and the van, Bette stood still for a beat, her arms crossed tightly. Her eyes drifted back toward the house, toward Tina, still inside with Angelica, both blissfully unaware of this new turn. Her heart ached at the thought of having to explain it, to shatter the fragile sense of peace they’d only just begun to rebuild.