On the bed, Darlene tried to sit up despite the pain, her forehead slick with sweat.
“That won’t work,” she said firmly. “The poachers are set to move at dawn. We need to prepare our ambush this afternoon.”
Terence’s expression darkened as he snapped, “You’re staying here to recover. That’s an order!”
His frustration was palpable, his tone brooking no argument.
For the first time, Halle noticed the thin sheen of sweat on Terence’s forehead, despite the cold wind. It wasn’t from exertion but worry—a side of him she rarely, if ever, saw.
Darlene, however, was less than pleased with his decision. The two of them began arguing fiercely, their voices rising.
Eventually, Terence ordered everyone out of the room—including Halle.
Halle lingered outside, clutching the gift box in her pocket as she paced nervously.
The shouting stopped after a while. Curious, Halle peeked through the window.
Inside, Terence was gently wiping sweat from Darlene’s brow, his face etched with worry and tenderness.
It was a stark contrast to the Terence she knew.
Not when she was held at gunpoint during their first meeting. Not when she got lost in the mountains, drenched and terrified.