Chapter 1 — The Consultant Arrives

Ellie

The air in the Zoo Director’s Office was stifling, heavy with the faint scent of old coffee and paper. Ellie Hart shifted in her chair, her khaki cargo pants brushing against the worn leather seat. Her fingers gripped the armrests tightly, a silent outlet for the tension coiling in her chest. Across the room, Ryan Carter, the new marketing consultant, radiated a confidence so tangible it felt like a spotlight in the cramped office. His tailored blazer and effortless smile clashed with the clutter of binders and faded posters of past zoo events.

Ellie’s gaze flicked to a framed photo on Victor Moreno’s desk—a younger Victor posing with a baby elephant. Its edges were worn, the glass smudged, but it was a reminder of the zoo’s legacy. Ellie had been summoned here by Victor, the director whose weariness seemed to deepen by the day. Though she hadn’t known what to expect, it certainly wasn’t this. Ryan had launched into his pitch the moment she walked in, his voice smooth and engaging, as if unveiling the next big thing on a stage.

“I’m telling you,” Ryan said, pacing with a casual swagger, “this zoo has untapped potential. We’re sitting on a goldmine of stories. Animals connecting with people, conservation efforts—there’s so much we can leverage. But we need to modernize. Live-streaming, influencer partnerships, interactive events, you name it. We make this place a must-visit for families, donors, and the online crowd.” He paused, glancing at her with warm hazel eyes that probably charmed half the world.

Ellie’s lips pressed into a thin line, her green eyes sharp behind a veil of skepticism. “Must-visit for families and donors, maybe. But what about the animals? Or the educational mission of the zoo? This isn’t a theme park. The animals and their welfare come first.”

Ryan tilted his head, his smile faltering ever so slightly. “I’m not saying we forget about education or conservation. I’m saying we highlight it in ways that engage people. They won’t care unless it’s packaged right.”

Ellie’s jaw tightened. Her mind flashed to the Primate Rainforest Enclosure, its aging dome with cracks spidering along the edges. She could practically hear the chatter of the gibbons inside, a sound that always brought her a strange comfort. “Storytelling is fine, as long as it doesn’t come at the expense of the animals’ welfare. The zoo isn’t a brand to sell. It’s a sanctuary to protect.”

Victor, seated behind his desk, rubbed his temples. His salt-and-pepper hair looked more gray than usual under the office’s fluorescent lighting. The desk before him was cluttered with financial reports and faded brochures from better days, the weight of the zoo’s struggles palpable in his weary expression. “Enough,” he said, his voice firm but tired. “Ellie, Ryan isn’t here to undermine the zoo’s mission. He’s here to help us save it. And Ryan,” he added, fixing the consultant with a hard look, “Ellie’s concerns aren’t unfounded. We walk a fine line here. The animals and their welfare come first.”

Ryan raised his hands in mock surrender. “Of course. I’m just here to bring fresh ideas. We all want the same thing, right? For the zoo to survive?”

Ellie’s stomach twisted at the word “survive.” The truth of the zoo’s precarious financial situation loomed over every decision they made. Attendance was dwindling, donors were scarce, and the board had grown increasingly restless. She glanced at Victor, who was watching her with a mixture of expectation and exhaustion.

She exhaled sharply. “Fine. But I’m not compromising the animals’ well-being for the sake of flashy PR stunts.”

Ryan’s smile returned, though it seemed slightly more measured this time. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m sure we’ll make a great team.”

Ellie doubted that very much.

The meeting wrapped up soon after, Victor outlining a few immediate goals for Ryan to tackle and instructing Ellie to assist where necessary. As they filed out of the office, Ellie lingered for a moment in the hallway, glancing back at Victor through the open door. He was already hunched over his desk, flipping through a thick binder.

Ryan’s voice broke her thoughts. “So,” he said, falling into step beside her, his tone light and conversational, “how long have you been here at the zoo?”

“Seven years,” Ellie replied curtly, her gaze fixed ahead.

“Seven years? That’s impressive. You must know this place like the back of your hand.”

Ellie stopped abruptly on the path leading out of the administrative building, turning to face him. “Look, Ryan, I’m sure you’re good at what you do, but I don’t have time for small talk. I have actual work to do. The animals don’t care about buzzwords or social media trends.”

Ryan held up his hands again, though this time there was a flicker of something behind his smile—surprise, maybe, or irritation. He adjusted his blazer, his fingers lingering for a moment on the lapel. “Got it. No small talk. Message received.”

Ellie didn’t wait for him to say anything else. She turned on her heel and headed toward the Butterfly Garden, her sanctuary within the zoo.

The walk through the zoo grounds offered a brief escape from her frustration. The familiar sounds of the place—birds chirping, the distant chatter of visitors—helped her steady her thoughts. She passed the Primate Rainforest Enclosure again, her gaze catching on the mist rising around the waterfall. The aging glass dome above it gleamed in the sunlight, but the cracks forming along its edges felt like a personal affront.

When she reached the Butterfly Garden, the tension in her shoulders began to ease. The garden was quiet, the hum of wings and the gentle rustling of leaves creating a soothing backdrop. Dappled sunlight filtered through the glass ceiling, casting soft patterns on the stone pathway. Ellie found her favorite bench near the corner where a small plaque commemorated the zookeeper the garden was dedicated to.

She ran her fingers over the leather cover of her field journal, pulling it from her bag. The familiar weight of the book in her hands was grounding. Opening it to a fresh page, she let the pen hover for a moment before writing.

*Ryan Carter, marketing consultant. Confident, charming, and frustratingly persistent. His ideas might bring in visitors, but at what cost? How can I work with someone who sees the zoo as a brand to market instead of a sanctuary to protect?*

She paused, her pen lingering over the page. Her gaze flicked to the hidden compartment in the back of the journal, where a single tiger whisker lay tucked away—a painful reminder of her greatest failure. Her fingers brushed the edge of the compartment, a momentary tremor in her hand before she pulled away.

*Father would’ve told me to give him a chance, to find common ground. I can almost hear his voice now: ‘Protect what matters, Ellie. Even when it’s hard.’*

Her jaw tightened. “Protect what matters,” she murmured aloud.

Closing the journal, Ellie slipped it back into her bag with a sigh. She leaned back on the bench, her gaze following a monarch butterfly as it flitted from one flower to the next. She thought of the zoo’s animals, each one a testament to resilience, a reminder of why she fought so hard.

The Butterfly Garden, with its quiet beauty, offered a momentary peace. But Ellie knew the battle ahead was only beginning. Ryan Carter might think he had all the answers, but she would make it very clear that this zoo—and its animals—deserved better than flashy slogans and marketing gimmicks.

A butterfly landed briefly on her outstretched hand, its delicate wings a soft brush against her skin before it took flight again. Ellie watched it disappear into the blooms, her resolve hardening like stone.