Bette wrapped her arms around her, pulling Tina into a close, aching embrace. They held each other tightly, swaying just a little as if the quiet motion could keep the fear at bay. When Tina finally leaned back, her hands framed Bette’s face with heartbreaking gentleness.

“Then you better damn well survive it,” she murmured, and pressed her lips to Bette’s in a slow, deep kiss that was part plea, part promise, and entirely love.

***

The morning sun was already bright over the plains making the rust-coloured soil shimmer with renewed life. Nyah leaned casually against the weather-worn post of the shelter just outside the main office, a thermos of strong black tea in one hand, her other hand tucked into the pocket of her khaki trousers.

Her eyes were sharp beneath the brim of her faded hat, tracking Bette’s silhouette as she moved toward her from the direction of the pens. “So,” Nyah said, cocking her head with a grin. “I hear your wife has packed her bags and taken the little one and the nanny to Nyali?”

Bette gave a tired but genuine smile, brushing her hair back from her face. “Left early this morning. I barely had time to load the car.”

Nyah gave a low, impressed whistle. “That place by the ocean? I remember you once showed me photos, those white walls and wide verandas, all shaded by frangipani and palms… and that view? Like the whole Indian Ocean just stretches out for you and only you.”

“She’ll be safe there,” Bette said quietly, her eyes scanning the horizon for a beat. “Away from all of this. It’ll be quiet there for Angelica and less hot. Tina can breathe.”

Nyah nodded slowly, then took a swig from her thermos. “Smart move. If I’d been here when those two men rolled up in that dusty van, though—” She clucked her tongue. “Let’s just say I’d have introduced them to the business end of my boot before they said a word.

Bette gave a soft snort. “You still might get your chance. But for now, they’re on bucket duty.”

Nyah arched an eyebrow. “You put poachers on elephant poop?”

“Every last shovel-load,” Bette replied, a smirk tugging at her mouth. “They’re mucking out the nursery pens, scrubbing water troughs, hauling feed. I figured if they want to be around this place, they can start at the bottom.”