Page 92 of Beautifully Wild

“I can’t concentrate right now, so it’s a story for another time.” Her brows pull together, and before she says anything else, I ask, “What’s important is you tell me everything that’s happened with Yasmine.”

She shakes her head as though she’s exasperated. “She only talks to him, not me, and if I’m around, she bloody whispers. I mean, what the fuck is that about? You’ll barely recognize her. Can someone change in a matter of weeks?”

Reflecting on my journey, I nod. “Sometimes, yes.”

We stop out front of a colonial-style hotel wall to wall with the other buildings. The hall is beautifully tiled with historical black and white pictures lining the long passageway.

“This is mine,” she tells me and opens the door to a quaint room with one queen bed. “It’s just you and me,ba-by.”

I laugh and yet head straight to the bed and flop backward. “I have missed the luxury of a mattress.”

Amy screws up her face. “What have you been sleeping on?”

“A hammock.” I kick off my sandals—my smelly sneakers dumped in a bin at the airport—and lift my legs onto the bed. “And as much as I want to talk about my adventure first, you need to tell me what the plan is for tomorrow because I’m not going to keep my eyes open much longer.”

Amy lands on the bed beside me with more energy than necessary. “Yasmine is in preparation, apparently.”

Linking my fingers behind my head, I stretch my elbows wide. “How do you know?”

“Michael calls me. He keeps asking if you and Samuel are coming? He mentionsPauloand how Samuel would understand.”

Asking for Samuel and me doesn’t sit right with me. I’m her friend. I can talk her out of most things if warranted, and besides, Michael is aware of his friend’s commitment. “Why is Michael allowing her to go through with it if he’s concerned?”

“They both went to some sort of shaman festival. You meet around thirty shamans and choose the one who’s right for you. This guy is from New York. We’re not sure why she chose him, but he convinced her to go down the river to his little camp. His fee was close to double the others. I mean, I saw some of the shamans. They looked like spiritual, beautiful people, but this guy appeared fake. I don’t trust him, and there have been whispers his brew has killed people, although no one has proved it. I hope it’s all whispers.”

“Wait. You pay?” I’m so naïve.

She nods. “It’s a commercial thing here. Part of the reason many come to visit. Camps are set up even for corporate businesses from around the world. And there are women’s groups as well as professionally organized ones, yet Yasmine decided to go with this Paulo from New York who could sell ice to an Eskimo.”

It doesn’t sound like Yasmine. She’s smarter than this.

“Do you know where the camp is?”

“Yep. I have a map with directions from Michael.”

“You said he calls you. How would he if he’s in the jungle?”

“Michael has a satellite phone.”

“Oh, right.”

Does Samuel have one too?

After texting Asoo that I’m here safe at the hotel and mentioning Paulo’s name, I climb under the sheets and curl into a ball. “We’ll find her tomorrow,” I murmur. My eyelids shutter closed as the energy drains away.

Thick, moist air in the tropics isn’t the easiest to breathe at any time, and if you combine it with pollution from the tuk-tuk and motorcycles, it’s even more difficult. Amy and I wait on a landing for a boat to take us along the Amazon River. At least the air is cleaner here.

“I’ve booked us on a tour boat,” Amy informs me. “It’s large enough for thirty people interested in visiting a small river village.”

I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. “Oh really. A small village.”

“Yeah. I thought it might interest you since the help in these villages comes from missionaries and volunteers.”

“Right. It does, but you know my interest before was simply to find Samuel, right?”

She gives me a long look. “I didn’t want to mention his name.”

Giving her an easy smile, I shrug my shoulders. “I miss him for sure. I also believe when his work is done, he’ll come looking for me. For now, we both have to live our lives until that day comes.”

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