Chapter 1

The day Ferdinand Gilbert proposed, he said he'd take me to the Masai Mara before the wedding to see the migration.

But when I walked into the airport, so happy I could hardly stand it, I saw my best friend Brenda Cox standing there with her suitcase.

Ferdinand took her coat for her, easy as anything.

"Come on. More people, more fun."

I held my boarding pass and said nothing.

The day we reached the riverbank, the guide said only one person could stand in the best viewing spot.

Ferdinand didn't look at me. He steered Brenda forward and up.

Brenda glanced back at me and said softly,

"Ferdinand, you've already shown me. Why don't you let Tamara Cooley have it?"

I stood frozen where I was, the diamond on my ring finger biting into me.

His hand on her arm didn't loosen. He only murmured to the guide,

"It's about to start. Don't hold us up."

When the wildebeest herd hit the water, everyone on the bank cried out.

I stood at the very back of the crowd, my shoes soaked by the mud kicked up around me, and I couldn't even see the river clearly.

And in the lens Ferdinand raised, there was nothing but Brenda.

She stood in the sunlight, her scarf lifting in the wind, laughing, beautiful and free.

I looked down, opened my phone, and accepted the three-year residency project in Botswana.

This time, the place I was going, I wouldn't need Ferdinand to take me.

...

I locked my phone and turned the screen down into my palm.

Brenda jumped off the viewing rock and pointed at the riverbank, smiling.

"Tamara, the light's great over here. Let me take one of you."

Ferdinand came over and frowned at that.

"Don't bother with her. She's not photogenic, what's there to shoot?"

Then he turned to me and pulled out the keys.

"Go grab the spare lens from the car. I want to get a couple more of Brenda."

Brenda gave his sleeve a little tug.

"Won't that be too much trouble for Tamara?"

Ferdinand smiled.

"She's not a stranger."

I turned and headed for the SUV.

I'd just pulled the door open when everything went white for a second.

The next second, a scalding drop of blood hit the back of my hand.

I have an immune clotting disorder. Once I start bleeding, it's very hard to stop.

Ferdinand used to be more nervous about it than I was. He'd made a point of keeping a first-aid kit in this glove box.

I opened the glove box, and the first-aid kit was gone.

In its place sat Brenda's makeup bag.

The blood kept dripping, and all I could do was jam a wad of tissue up my nose.

The car door was suddenly pulled open from outside.

Ferdinand stood in the sunlight, camera still in his hand.

"Where's the lens? You're taking forever."

His gaze dropped to the blood all over my hand, and his voice caught.

"Why are you bleeding again?"

I looked up at him, my voice hoarse.

"Where's the first-aid kit?"

He blinked, his eyes scanning the glove box.

"Brenda had too much stuff this morning, so I took it out."

"Took it where?"

"It should be at the hotel."

The hotel was a three-hour drive from here.

I looked at him, and all at once I didn't even have the strength to demand anything.

Ferdinand handed me a pack of tissues, his tone softening.

"Just press on it. We'll deal with it when we get back. As long as it stops, you don't have to have the first-aid kit."

Just then, Brenda called to him from a little way off.

"Ferdinand, come here, quick."

He turned and answered her, then looked back at me.

"Tamara, don't throw a fit at a time like this."

I gripped the blood-soaked tissue and said quietly,

"Got it."

Ferdinand turned and ran toward the viewing rock.

Outside the car window, the wildebeest herd finally charged into the river.

The crowd on the bank broke into a huge cheer.

Ferdinand held up his camera, the lens chasing the line of Brenda's profile.