Page 64 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

“That’s Rue,” I said. “She’s the one you inquired about.”

“Can I meet her?”

Traig nodded.

I opened the gate, and Rue approached, her flowers brightening as Mandy crouched to her level.

“Hi,” Mandy whispered. “Hi, beautiful girl.” She reached out slowly, letting Rue sniff her hand before scratching behind her ear. Rue leaned into the touch, the pink of her blooms deepening. Tom and Lisa hung back, watching their daughter with expressions that made my chest ache. These were good people. Mandy loved animals, had done her research, and would give Rue an excellent home.

Which made what was coming so much harder.

Mandy pulled a pink collar with a matching lead from her back pocket, holding it up.

“I got this for her. Is it okay if I try it on?”

“Sure,” I said.

She slipped the collar around Rue’s neck carefully, attaching the lead with a small clip.

“Perfect,” she breathed.

I opened the gate wider.

Rue stepped through calmly, following Mandy into the open area between the enclosures.

Mandy walked her slowly, talking softly, pausing to hug Rue, to kiss her cheek.

Tom pulled out his phone and took photos. Lisa smiled, leaning against his side.

Everyone was happy except Fern. I saw it first and reached out for Traig’s arm.

He turned.

Fern stood motionless at the fence, watching Rue walk away. Her flowers slowly turned gray, a color I’d never seen before on a bloomback.

Traig lifted his tablet with shaking hands, opened Fern’s file, and scrolled to my original observation. He read it, looked at Fern, and stared down at the tablet again. “You were right about the bloombacks. You’re right about everything. I’m sorry. For not telling you. For not believing.”

His words hung in the air between us, too big to fit inside my chest.

You’re right about everything. He was sorry.

Not “you might be right” or “the information supports your belief,” or “I still want to handle things the way I always have.”

You’re right.

He’d relabeled an entire supply room rather than admit I’d seen something he’d missed. And now he was standing here, in front of a family who wanted to take Rue home, saying it out loud. Trusting, believing, and choosing me.

I wasn’t used to being heard without fighting, to having my observations valued. I wasn’t sure anyone had ever changed their mind because they trusted me.

“What do we do now?” he asked.

He asked it like he genuinely didn’t know.

I watched Fern, her gray flowers stark against the green of the enclosure.

Rue walked happily with Mandy, oblivious.

“We can’t let them take her,” I said. “Not without Fern.”