“It’s a medical decision. Which makes itexactlymy decision.” He set his spoon down, pushed his bowl away, and reached for a cloth to wipe his mouth. “The Tatmadaw has increased patrols in that sector. Three aid workers detained last month.”
The breeze from an oncoming tropical storm swept into the room, mixing with the curry and the cloying smell of hospital cleanser. Her stomach knotted. “The Free Burma Rangers know the territory. They’ve been shuffling medical supplies across that border for years.”
“This isn’t like your other assignments, Chloe. Press credentials won’t help if you’re caught by forces that don’t recognize international law.”
“Children are dying.” Her hands clenched into fists. “Someone’s systematically poisoning remote villages. Nobodywith authority knows or cares. If I don’t document what’s happening, who will?”
“Then go through the proper channels?—”
“Which will take months while more families get murdered.” She shook her head. “I’ve covered conflicts in worse places than Myanmar. I know how to stay alive.”
“This is different.” Tobias pushed back from the table. “This has gotten personal for you.”
Right. Kamon.Yeah, she’d gotten too attached, but that’s what happened when a six-year-old asked you to save his life. And the life of his sister.
She looked away, her throat tight.
“Everything I do is personal.” Her voice barely sounded over the fan’s hum. “That’s what makes me good at it.”
“And what makes you reckless.” He stood. “You think you have to save everyone because you couldn’t save?—”
“Don’t.” She looked back at him.
He drew in a breath at her words.
She didn’t care. “Don’t psychoanalyze my motivations. Like I said, children are dying. I’m the only journalist willing to cross a dangerous border to document it. That’s enough justification.”
“For you, maybe. Not for people who care what happens to you.”
She frowned at him, then shook her head. “I’ll be in and out before anyone knows I’m gone.”
He stared at her, but she turned and headed out of the kitchen. “I need to go. The rangers are waiting.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
“Tobias—”
“Nonnegotiable.”
He moved toward the staff lockers. Metal hinges squeaked as he pulled out a field medical kit. “If you’re determined to walkinto a medical-crisis zone, you need someone who can actually treat the patients you’re planning to document.”
“It’s not safe. I didn’t tell you I was leaving so you would jump in and save the day.”Yeah, tactical error.
Or maybe not, because she couldn’t ignore the sudden loosening of her chest.
“Nothing about this situation is safe.” He secured the medical kit in a larger bag and added supplies from the emergency stockpile. “But you’re right about one thing—someone needs to help those families. If you’re going anyway, I’d rather be there to help, and maybe keep you alive while you’re doing it.”
“Besides, I need samples.” He checked expiration dates on medication bottles. “Whatever’s making these children sick, I can’t identify it from secondhand reports. I need food samples, water samples, soil—anything from the affected area.”
“Why?”
He paused. Looked up from packing. “Because if something happened to you out there and I’d let you go alone, I’d never forgive myself.”
Oh. She swallowed as he held her gaze, his brown eyes on hers.
Oh.
But before she could respond, he’d finished packing and headed for the door, shouldering his medical bag. “Come on. Let’s go keep each other alive.”