Twenty-Six receipts of betrayal Novel novel Chapter 67

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Hot wind carried the scent of red earth across the endless savanna.

Through my lens, a pregnant zebra cried out in pain. Her body trembled violently as she struggled to bring new life

into the world.

I knelt in the tall grass nearby, breath held, finger steady on the shutter.

Sweat rolled down my temple and into my eyes, stinging sharply.

I blinked, but my vision stayed blurred.

*Life.*

Such a blazing, fragile thing.

The moment the newborn broke free–slick with blood and fluid, collapsing into the dust–my eyes burned with unexpected heat.

I thought of the child who never got to see this world.

Aunt Annie nudged my arm gently.

“Lanie. Some stalker followed you here.”

I felt it before I turned–a searing gaze burning into my back.

Twenty meters away, Sean stood beneath an acacia tree.

His suit was wrinkled beyond recognition, his hair disheveled.

But his eyes were locked on me, unblinking.

Like a man who’d crossed deserts and oceans and finally found the only thing he believed in.

Aunt Annie said nothing.

She just rolled her eyes dramatically in Sean’s direction, hoisted her gear onto her shoulder, and walked off in the opposite direction.

I set down my camera and stood. The dry grass crunched beneath my boots.

Sean didn’t move–not until I was standing right in front of him.

Chapter 12

Then, suddenly, his arms shot out and crushed me against his chest.

His breathing was ragged. His heartbeat pounded so hard I could feel it through his ribs.

“Lanie.”

His voice came out hoarse and thick, like he’d been crying.

“I found you. You… I…”

He couldn’t finish a sentence. He just held me tighter and tighter, as if afraid I’d vanish if he let go.

I gently pushed him away and looked him in the eye.

“Sean, I’m sorry I didn’t say this before I left.”

“Come with me.”

I pulled him toward the Land Rover.

Inside the car, I reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. I lit one with

practiced ease.

Thin smoke curled upward, blurring my expression.

Sean’s brow furrowed deeply.

“Since when do you smoke?”

I didn’t answer. I just exhaled slowly, watching the smoke drift toward the open window.

“Sean, we’re done.”

♡ (0)

000

(0)

19:35