She hung around longer than usual at the dormitories, kneeling beside the smallest calves, brushing dust from their wrinkled hides and inspecting the tender patches behind their ears for signs of infection. The babies responded to her familiar scent, their trunks curling around her wrist or nudging at her side, seeking comfort. She spoke to them softly, blowing gently in the tip of their trunks so they wouldn’t forget her, chatting with each of them, her voice a low, steady hum, part lullaby, part whispered promise that they were safe.

But her thoughts kept circling back to the conversation with Nyah, and the tightening noose Chang’s presence cast over them all.

When she finally left the elephant pens, the sky had begun to soften into dusky purples and reds. But the day’s work wasn’t finished. Behind the house, the veterinary surgery waited, the faint scent of antiseptic and straw greeting her as she stepped inside. A pair of injured impalas rested quietly in one pen in the holding area, and a young warthog with a shallow gash along its flank blinked up at her as she prepared a dose of antibiotics. From the corner enclosure, a large, crowned crane, its wing bound carefully in gauze shifted its long legs and let out a low, guttural call. Its crest caught the last of the light spilling through the high windows, delicate feathers trembling with each breath.

Her hands moved automatically, but her mind was elsewhere, weighing possibilities and risks like stones in her palm. She had to act, to protect Tina, Angelica, the animals, her staff but she knew that brute strength would never be enough against a man like Chang.

As she cleaned the warthog’s wound and secured the dressing, the pieces of an idea began to form. Evidence. Leverage. Timing. It wasn’t just about keeping her head down anymore; it was about finding a way to strike back before Chang could.

And as the warthog settled, trusting her enough to close its eyes, Bette straightened up and exhaled slowly, determination starting to burn in her chest. She couldn’t control what came next, but she could be ready.

When the vet finished the last of the care and brought the last of the cleaning touches to the metal examination table, she left the surgery and headed for the house where her little family was no doubt waiting for her.