Chapter 3

It was one in the morning by the time they came back.

Ferdinand looked at me.

"Why are you so pale? Another nosebleed?"

He reached out to touch my face.

I turned my head away.

"It's over now."

Brenda leaned out from behind him, her face full of worry.

"Tamara, you look frightening, you're so white."

"Ferdinand, let's skip the balloon at dawn tomorrow. Let's charter a car and take Tamara to a hospital in Nairobi to get her checked, all right?"

Ferdinand's brows knit together, and he shot it down without a second's hesitation.

"What's the point of Nairobi? A whole day wasted going back and forth, and tomorrow's balloon ride would be ruined."

"Her clotting problem is an old issue. She's not that delicate. A good night's sleep and she'll be fine."

The air went quiet. I stared blankly at Ferdinand's face.

The year I was first diagnosed, I sliced my index finger cutting fruit.

The cut was shallow, but the bleeding wouldn't stop.

When Ferdinand saw it, he went whiter than I am now.

He didn't even change out of his slippers. He scooped me up and rushed downstairs.

Once the wound was dressed, he pulled me tight against him, his eyes red.

He kissed my bandaged finger, his voice shaking.

"Tamara, I'll never let you get hurt again."

I let go of his hand and swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat.

I met Ferdinand's impatient gaze and let the corner of my mouth curve.

"No need."

The next day, I was woken by knocking at the door.

I opened my eyes to see Brenda standing by the door, letting Ferdinand in from the hall.

"Shh, Tamara's still sleeping."

Ferdinand wore a khaki field outfit, and Brenda had on the women's version in the same style and color.

Even the dust scarves around their necks were the exact same deep blue.

Standing there side by side, they looked as matched as a pair of newlyweds on their honeymoon.

"I'm going to touch up my sunscreen in the bathroom. Wait for me a second."

Brenda tiptoed into the bathroom and shut the door.

Ferdinand turned and found me awake.

He came over to the bed, bent down, and reached out to touch my cheek.

"Still feeling rough?"

"You got sick this time, so rest up like a good girl. I'll bring you back again someday and make up for everything you missed."

I tilted my head slightly, away from him.

"Someday?"

"Next time, are you still going to bring Brenda?"

Ferdinand's hand froze midair, his brows drawing tight.

"What are you throwing a fit about now?"

"Tamara Cooley, you wanted to see the migration, so the two of us flew all the way out here with you!"

"Now your body can't hold up and you can't see it, and you're taking it out on me instead?"

"I kept you at the hotel for the sake of your life, and you still have to be snide about it?"

I clutched the edge of the blanket and stared him in the eyes.

"I'm only asking you one thing."

"When you say you'll bring me back someday, does that mean she'll come too?"

"Yes!"

Ferdinand lost his patience completely and roared, low.

"If you insist on putting it that way, then I'll tell you: yes!"

"Wherever I go from now on, I'll bring her along. Happy? Satisfied now?"

The bathroom door clicked open.

Brenda came out holding a lipstick, looked at the two of us at each other's throats, and her eyes reddened in an instant.

"Tamara, why are you two fighting? Is it because of me..."

"It has nothing to do with you. She's just being impossible."

Ferdinand's face went cold. He strode over and grabbed Brenda by the wrist.

"Let's go. We'll be late for the balloon. Leave her here alone to cool her head."

Brenda let him pull her toward the door, glancing back at me with a face full of apology.

Then came a dull, heavy bang.

The door slammed shut, locking me completely inside a room of dead silence.