A male teacher from St. Andrews, Mr. Limo, stepped in swiftly, catching Jennifer by the arm and helping her to her feet before she could fully register what had happened.
"You alright?" he asked, concern in his voice.
Jennifer gave a shaky nod, but her eyes immediately darted to the ground-Miss Emily was still there, half-sitting, one hand pressed to her side.
Ms. Muthoni crouched beside her, gently touching her shoulders. But just as she opened her mouth to ask if she was okay, Miss Emily spoke first.
"Jennifer...are you okay?"
Her voice was low, but it cut through everything.
She hadn't even tried to stand. Her first thought had been Jennifer.
Jennifer swallowed hard. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
Then, Ms. Muthoni reached to help Miss Emily up. But as she rose, the sharp-eyed teacher gasped softly.
"There's blood.'
Heads turned. A thin line of red ran from just above Miss Emily's eyebrow, trailing down toward her temple.
"She's bleeding," someone muttered.
"She might be concussed," Ms. Muthoni said, now more urgent. She looked around quickly.
"Where's Madam Leah?"
"I'm here," Madam Leah replied, already pushing through the crowd. Her tone was composed, but her steps were quick. She reached into her coat pocket, pulling out her phone. "I'm calling the driver now. They'll send the school vehicle from the lower base. We'll get her checked at Ngong Health Station, just to be safe."
Students around them were whispering. A few stepped back, unsure whether to help or stay away. Some looked at Jennifer with wide eyes.
Miss Emily stood now, one hand still holding her forehead. She didn't wince, but her skin had gone pale.
"I'm fine," she murmured again. "Really."
But Jennifer knew better. The blood, the fall, the way she hadn't even checked herself before asking about her-it all twisted inside her like knot.
This was all because of her.
Because she fell. Because Miss Emily caught her. Because she hadn't been more careful.
...
Jennifer walked quietly, her footsteps heavy and unfocused. The air was still warm, but the warmth no longer reached her.
Her mood had shifted.
Something inside her had sunk the moment she noticed the smear of blood near Miss Emily's temple.
Now, even the sound of laughter ahead didn't stir her.
Kevin walked beside her, unusually quiet. When they reached a steep patch, he reached out instinctively-his hand steady, ready to help her up.
But Jennifer didn't take it.
She grabbed a rock on her own, pulling herself upward with effort. Her knees scraped, her fingers shook slightly, but she didn't look back or speak.
Kevin said nothing-but his eyes said it all.
Even he had noticed.
The guide's voice floated somewhere ahead, giving directions, pointing at rock formations and valleys below. But Jennifer barely listened.
She kept going, one foot after the other, as if every step demanded all of her.
...
The guide finished her explanation and gave a short nod to the supervising teachers. A voice rose from the crowd-a male teacher from St. Peter's, clipboard in hand.
"Alright, students. Let's board the buses for lunch. We're heading to Ngong Hills Hotel. Make sure you've got all your belongings.
Students murmured and shuffled to their feet, brushing dust off their uniforms as they started toward the parked buses.
As usual, Kevin reached the door first. He climbed up, paused at the top step, and looked back.
Jennifer was just arriving, her bag loosely slung over one shoulder.
Without a word, Kevin offered his hand to help her up.
She hesitated-just for a second-her eyes flicking to his palm, then to his face. That same face that made her chest twist with confusion. Still, she took it.
Their fingers touched.
And just like before, he held her steady as she climbed.
Behind her, a girl's voice whispered-low but audible.
"He never gets tired of helping her up and down, huh?"
A few soft giggles followed.
Jennifer didn't turn.
She simply walked past Kevin and slid into the seat beside the window, her lips pressed tightly together, her heart already beating a little faster than it should.
The bus rumbled softly as it pulled away from the hiking trail, tires crunching over gravel. Inside, voices lowered to murmurs, some students already half-asleep, others laughing quietly in clusters.
Jennifer leaned slightly toward the window, the cold glass brushing her temple. Kevin sat beside her, his hands resting on his lap-fidgeting.
After a moment, he turned, voice low.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I wasn't quick enough to catch you back there. Lucky Miss Emily was there before anything worse happened. Unlucky to her, she got injured on the process."
Jennifer blinked, turning slightly toward him. She could still feel the ghost of Miss Emily's lavender scent around her. The memory of the fall, the hold, the staring eyes-it lingered.
She shook her head gently.
"It's okay," she murmured. "You don't have to blame yourself. It was just...one of those things."
Kevin looked unconvinced. "Still, I should've..."
"We can't stop what's written," she said, softly. "Some things...just happen.
Whether we're ready or not."
He went quiet then. The hum of the road filled the space between them.
Jennifer didn't say more.
She turned back toward the window, but her thoughts weren't on the winding road or the trees swaying beyond the glass. She wasn't really watching anything at all.
"Is Miss Emily alright?. Is she seriously injured?" The question curled in her chest like smoke. She had fallen-many times-and of all people, Miss Emily had caught her today.
She folded her arms quietly, not leaning too close to Kevin, not too far either. The tension hadn't left her body. It simply shifted form.
...
By the time the bus finally rolled into the dusty driveway of a small hotel near Ngong town, the afternoon sun had softened into a golden glaze.
A man in a white shirt and a bright smile came out to greet them at the entrance.
"Karibuni sana!" he called cheerfully, opening the gate wider for the students and teachers as they filed out.
Jennifer stepped down from the bus slowly, her legs slightly stiff. Kevin was just behind her, keeping close but not speaking this time.
Inside, the students were led to a wide shaded courtyard lined with white plastic chairs and round tables under parasols.
Kevin pulled out a chair for Jennifer. She nodded silently and sat down.
Brian and Cynthia joined them moments later, chatting lightly as they sat.
Brian grinned, leaning back with exaggerated flair.
"Do you know why hiking is like falling in love?" he asked loudly.
Cynthia raised an eyebrow, already smiling.
"Here we go..."
"Because no matter how much you prepare, you still end up breathless, sore, and lost."
Cynthia burst into laughter, covering her mouth. Even Kevin chuckled softly.
But Jennifer...just stared at her glass of water.
She tried to smile, but it barely reached her lips.
...
Lunch was served in quiet trays: golden chips, a piece of chicken, and a tall cup filled with mango juice.
Jennifer didn't touch hers.
She poked at the food with her fork gently, barely looking at the chicken. Even when Kevin tried to pass her the salt or when Cynthia glanced at her with concern, she didn't say a word.
The others noticed-but no one said anything.
No one wanted to push her.
...
Outside the hotel, under the soft Ngong afternoon, the students began to gather.
A teacher from Our Lady of Fatima, a tall woman with round spectacles and a warm but firm voice-Miss Sudi-stood before them.
She cleared her throat and called them to order.
"Before we all depart," she began, "I want to say asante sana to everyone. It's not just about hiking, wildlife or geography. You've met friends today-from different schools. Maybe even kept a memory or two. That's learning too."
Heads nodded, a few claps followed.
Then one of the students from St. Peter's-perhaps chosen earlier-stepped forward and led a short, heartfelt closing prayer, thanking God for safety, for friendship, and for the journey ahead.
The buses were already humming. Teachers called out names, and groups started forming.
Just before Jennifer turned to leave, Kevin stepped closer.
Without a word, he leaned in and pressed a quick, unexpected peck on her cheeks.
Jennifer froze-she hadn't seen it coming.
Then, smoothly, he slipped a small folded paper into her palm.
"Text me...so I can save your number," he said in a low voice.
He didn't wait for reply.
Kevin turned and walked away, giving her one last glance over his shoulder. His eyes- they were soft, hopeful, full of desire.
She clutched the paper tighter.
She didn't know what to feel anymore.
The buses were ready, lined up to take everyone back to their schools. Jennifer quietly walked past the lines, her steps turning toward the Our Lady of Fatima bus.
As she climbed in, she spotted an empty space beside Cynthia-one that she had clearly reserved for her, who was already seated-chatting nonstop, trying to lighten the mood.
But Jennifer barely heard her.
In her mind, one thought pulsed louder than everything else:
I must see Miss Emily today. I need to thank her for saving me from falling. I also need to apologize the way I replied rudely to her at Nairobi Park.
...
* Asante sana-It means "Thank you very much" in swahili languange.
*Karibuni sana- It means very welcome (to many people)