Chapter 1 — Collision of Worlds

Mia

Mia Everhart crouched low on the wooden platform, her gaze fixed on the delicate movements of Tika’s russet-furred hands. The young orangutan sat a few meters away, her cautious fingers exploring one of the simpler compartments of the puzzle feeder. The bright, durable device had seen its share of use, but this moment was a small triumph—the first enrichment tool Tika had touched without hesitation in weeks.

“Good girl,” Mia murmured softly, her voice a barely audible thread of encouragement. It was a tone she rarely used with people, reserved for moments like this, when trust hung in the balance. She adjusted her grip on her leather field notebook, scribbling notes in her neat, controlled handwriting despite the humid air thickening the pages. The earthy smell of damp soil mixed with the faint musk of the habitat around her, but Mia barely registered it. Here, in this carefully cultivated corner of the sanctuary, the noise of the outside world faded. Here, she could focus.

Tika glanced up, her dark, soulful eyes meeting Mia’s. For an instant, connection flickered between them, fragile but profound. A quiet warmth spread through Mia’s chest, a reminder of why this work mattered so much—to Tika, to the sanctuary, and to her. Then, laughter burst through the stillness, sharp and jarring.

Mia’s head snapped toward the sound. On the far side of the habitat, Lucas Reed stood on one of the elevated observation platforms, surrounded by a group of donors. His tousled sandy blonde hair caught the golden shafts of sunlight filtering through the canopy, and his voice, deep and smooth, carried easily over the rustling leaves and chirping cicadas. He gestured broadly, his words punctuated by bursts of laughter from his captivated audience.

“Unbelievable,” Mia muttered under her breath, the words sharp as her rising frustration. At the sound, Tika flinched, her fingers pulling away from the puzzle feeder as if stung. The orangutan’s movements stilled, then turned deliberate as she shuffled backward, retreating into the safety of the hanging vines.

Mia’s chest clenched as she watched the morning’s progress unravel. Her notebook slipped from her lap with a muted thunk as she stood abruptly. Her boots pressed into the damp earth as she started toward the rope bridge leading to the observation platform. Lucas’s laughter rose again, rippling through the habitat like an unwelcome gust of wind, unraveling the fragile calm she had worked weeks to nurture.

As she ascended the platform, her steps quick and purposeful, Mia felt her irritation harden into resolve. This wasn’t just about the noise; it wasn’t even just about Tika. Lucas had no idea—no idea how much work, how much trust had gone into this moment. And, like so many others, he had disrupted it without a second thought.

“Lucas,” Mia called sharply, her voice carrying over the hum of conversation. The donors turned toward her, some startled by her tone, but Lucas didn’t immediately notice. He was mid-sentence, his broad gestures as animated as the grin on his face.

“Lucas,” she repeated, louder this time, the edge in her voice unmistakable.

His head swiveled toward her, and for a moment, his charm faltered. Then it returned, practiced and polished. “Mia,” he greeted, his voice warm but tinged with curiosity. “Did you need something?”

“Yes,” Mia said tightly, stepping fully onto the platform and planting herself in his line of sight. “I need you to keep it down. You’re spooking Tika.”

Lucas frowned, the easy confidence dimming slightly. “We’re just talking,” he said, spreading his hands in a defensive gesture. “It’s nothing she hasn’t heard before.”

“She’s not ready for this much noise,” Mia snapped, her voice low but firm. “Do you know how hard she’s worked to trust us? To trust me? Weeks of progress—undone in seconds because of your grand performance.” She gestured vaguely at the donors, her irritation flaring hot beneath her controlled exterior.

Lucas’s posture stiffened, his frame straightening as he met her gaze. “Performance?” he repeated, his voice cooling. “I’m giving them context. You know, the kind of context that keeps the sanctuary funded?”

Mia felt the familiar burn of professional frustration rise in her throat. Her jaw tightened as she tried to rein in her reaction, aware of the donors watching them. One of the donors, a woman with an oversized sunhat and a clipboard, coughed nervously, clearly uncomfortable.

“Perhaps we should—” the donor began tentatively, but Mia cut her off with a curt nod.

“This isn’t the time or place for this discussion,” Mia said, her tone clipped. Without waiting for Lucas’s response, she turned sharply and descended the platform steps, her braid swinging behind her in time with her brisk pace. She didn’t look back.

When she returned to the habitat, her practiced eyes immediately scanned for Tika. The orangutan wasn’t visible at the feeder. Mia’s gaze caught a faint rustle in the foliage near the shaded grove where Tika often retreated when overwhelmed. She sighed, kneeling down near the feeder and brushing her fingers against the familiar, worn leather of her notebook. For a moment, she considered opening it, letting her pen channel the tangle of emotions she couldn’t quite shake. But she hesitated, the weight of the morning pressing down all the heavier. She needed to focus.

“Hey,” Lucas’s voice came from behind her, softer now but no less unwelcome. She didn’t turn.

“I’m busy,” Mia said flatly, her attention fixed on the spot where Tika had disappeared.

“I can see that,” Lucas replied, stepping closer. The crunch of his boots in the damp soil grated against her nerves. He crouched beside her, his long frame folding awkwardly. “Look, I didn’t mean to disrupt anything. I didn’t realize…” He trailed off, his usual confidence absent.

“That’s exactly the problem,” Mia interrupted, her voice sharp. She turned to face him, her hazel eyes hard and searching. “You didn’t think. You just—” She paused, pressing her lips together. She drew in a breath, her tone softening slightly. “You just barged in without considering the impact—on her, or on me.”

Lucas’s expression flickered, and for the first time, Mia caught a glimpse of something brittle beneath his polished exterior. His hand moved almost unconsciously to the pendant hanging from the leather cord around his neck, his fingers brushing its smooth surface. “I was trying to help,” he said at last, his voice quieter. “The donors… they need to feel connected. That’s how we keep this place running.”

“And you thought disrupting a critical training session was the best way to do that?” Mia asked, standing and brushing the dirt from her cargo pants. Her arms crossed, her stance closed off. “We’re not a sideshow, Lucas.”

“I know that,” he said, standing as well. He hesitated, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting hers again. “I was just—” He stopped, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

A rustle in the foliage drew Mia’s attention. Tika peeked out from behind the thick curtain of vines, her dark eyes cautious but curious.

Mia exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing. Kneeling again, she extended a hand toward Tika, her movements deliberate, calm. “It’s okay, girl,” she murmured gently. “You’re safe.”

Tika hesitated, her gaze flicking between Mia and Lucas before venturing forward, her movements tentative. When she reached the puzzle feeder, she paused, her fingers brushing one of the compartments. Mia held her breath, unmoving, as Tika resumed her exploration. The orangutan’s movements grew steadier, her confidence returning as she slid one of the covers aside and retrieved a small treat.

Lucas watched in silence, his posture subdued. After a moment, he said softly, “She’s incredible.”

“She is,” Mia replied, her voice quieter now. She glanced at him briefly, her expression less guarded. “But she’s also fragile. Every small disruption affects her progress. That’s why we have to be careful.”

Lucas nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on Tika. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I’ll… try to be more mindful.”

Mia studied him, her hazel eyes searching his face. Finally, she nodded. “Good,” she said simply, turning her attention back to Tika.

As the orangutan continued exploring the feeder, the tension between Mia and Lucas eased, though unspoken frustrations lingered in the humid air. For now, Mia chose to focus on the small victory unfolding before her—the delicate bond between human and animal, and the fragile hope that it might someday lead to something stronger.