Everest's Guardian Hubby Watched Me Freeze My Ghost Knows Where He'll Burn novel Chapter 53

Chapter 12

A hot, dry wind swept across the vast savanna, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of sunbaked red earth. The endless landscape stretched out before me, golden grasses swaying gently in the breeze under a scorching sky.

Through the lens of my camera, I focused on a pregnant zebra struggling nearby. Her cries pierced the stillness, raw and desperate as she trembled violently, wrestling with the pain of bringing new life into the harsh world around her.

I knelt down quietly in the tall grass, heart pounding, breath held steady. My finger hovered over the shutter, ready to capture this fragile moment.

Sweat trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes sharply. I blinked several times, but the world remained blurred through the salty moisture.

*Life.* Such a fierce, delicate force.

When the newborn finally emerged, slick with blood and amniotic fluid, collapsing weakly into the dusty earth, my eyes burned with unexpected tears. The raw intensity of the scene overwhelmed me.

In that instant, my thoughts drifted painfully to the child I’d never gotten to hold—never got to see breathe in this world.

Aunt Annie’s gentle nudge on my arm pulled me back to reality.

“Lanie,” she whispered, voice low but urgent. “Looks like you’ve got a stalker.”

Before I could turn, I felt it—a burning gaze searing into my back.

About twenty meters away, Sean stood beneath the shade of an acacia tree. His suit was rumpled beyond recognition, and his hair was wild and untamed, as if he’d been through a storm. But his eyes—those intense, unblinking eyes—were fixed solely on me.

He looked like a man who had crossed deserts and oceans, driven by the single belief that led him here.

Aunt Annie didn’t say a word. Instead, she rolled her eyes dramatically in Sean’s direction, hoisted her gear onto her shoulder, and strode off in the opposite way, leaving us alone.

Without hesitation, I took his hand and led him toward the Land Rover waiting nearby.

Once inside the car, I reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. With practiced ease, I lit one, the flame flickering in the dim interior.

Thin tendrils of smoke curled upward, partially obscuring my face as I exhaled slowly, watching the wisps drift toward the open window.

Sean’s brow furrowed deeply, confusion and concern etched across his features.

“Since when do you smoke?” he asked quietly.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I let the smoke slip from my lips, the silence stretching between us.

Finally, I met his gaze and said firmly, “Sean, we’re done.”