CThe next day, Owen and Monica were already on a flight bound for Belém, Brazil. This was, as promised, a spur-of-the-moment trip.
Owen, now with money in the bank, had half a mind to splurge on business class, but since the trip had been decided on so suddenly, all the business seats were sold out. Beth had even offered them her private jet, but since he'd already roped her into the elaborate proposal plans, Owen felt it would be too much to impose again, so he politely declined.
The price of pride was being stuck in economy class.
They boarded and found their seats. It was a mid-size passenger plane, with a center aisle and three seats on either side. Owen and Monica's seats were next to each other—Owen by the aisle, Monica in the middle—while the window seat was taken by someone else.
Settling in, Owen flipped through a brochure about their destination. It was full of information about Belém's tourist spots. He read it with interest.
Brazil had once been a Portuguese colony, and Belém's biggest draws were its colonial-era architecture and its role as a gateway to Amazon rainforest expeditions. Monica's eyes, however, were firmly on the Amazon.
Belém, the capital of Pará state and the largest port city on the Amazon River, was the starting point for many entering the rainforest. It had no shortage of tour companies and group trips. Owen and Monica planned to join a group once there, beginning their Amazon adventure in earnest.
Monica was thrilled, clutching Owen's arm and poring over the travel guide with him. The previous night, they'd done nothing more than talk—Monica was still in her first trimester, so "making babies" was off the table. Instead, they'd stayed up holding hands and chatting until dawn.
Owen had been surprised to learn just how much she loved the idea of the Amazon. She'd somehow absorbed a great deal of knowledge about its climate, dangers, do's and don'ts. To him, she was practically a half-fledged Amazon expert.
As they talked, the passenger for their row's window seat boarded—a striking woman with a sun-kissed tan, hair in a neat ponytail, and a fit, capable air about her.
Not long after, two more of her companions boarded, one of them taking the aisle seat across from Owen. From their conversation, it became clear they were together. The man in the aisle seat, a young Black guy, kept addressing the tanned woman as "Director." Clearly, they were part of a crew.
Monica glanced at her curiously—female directors weren't exactly common—but Owen barely reacted. Growing up in Los Angeles, he'd seen more than his share of film crews.
"Ma'am, would you mind switching seats with me? I'd like to sit with my friend to go over some things…"
The young man addressed Monica politely. She blinked, realizing he meant her. Before she could respond, Owen spoke up. "Sorry, sir, we're together. We'd rather not sit apart."
"Oh, my apologies. I understand."
The young man looked disappointed. Owen glanced from him to the tanned woman. Honestly, he respected the guy's effort—dating across racial lines wasn't without its hurdles—and decided to help out.
"But… if your friend's willing, I can switch with her."
"Really? That would be great."
The guy's face lit up. The tanned woman thanked Owen, and they swapped seats. Soon, she and her friend were chatting across the aisle.
Once airborne, Owen tried to nap with an eye mask, but couldn't fall asleep. Instead, bits of their conversation drifted to him—something about species, tribes, television, camera angles, and a lot of technical jargon he didn't quite follow. But one thing was clear: the Black guy wasn't flirting—just talking shop.
After a while, the conversation turned from technical matters to Amazon culture. To Owen's mild surprise, Monica jumped in.
"Sorry to interrupt, but I couldn't help overhearing you mention the Amazon rainforest. I'm really interested—would you mind telling me more?"
Her interruption didn't bother them—maybe thanks to her being a beautiful woman, or perhaps because Owen had shown goodwill earlier. They explained that both had been to the Amazon before, and spoke knowledgeably. Soon, all three were deep in conversation.
"Oh, you're newlyweds? On your honeymoon?"
The tanned woman, whose name was Kroll, had spotted their rings.
"Something like that," Owen said with a smile. "Monica's always wanted to see the Amazon, so here we are."
Monica's curiosity got the better of her. "Kroll, I heard you talking about a crew earlier. Are you filming a movie there?"
"No, not a movie—a documentary. We're a documentary team. I'm the director, Danny here is the cameraman, over there is Carl, an anthropologist, and the other is Wilson, our sound engineer. This trip is sponsored by the BBC. We're filming a piece on the Shuar people, an Amazonian tribe that still lives in the pre-modern age. They worship giant snakes as their gods, and we're hoping to uncover some of the mysteries surrounding them."
"Wow\~\~"
The mention of a mysterious indigenous tribe hooked Monica instantly. After introducing themselves to the other two members, she eagerly discussed Amazonian flora and fauna with them, revealing a surprisingly deep knowledge.
"When exactly did you learn all this? You've never even been to the Amazon. How do you know so much?"
Owen had been wondering the same thing since the night before.
"Darling, you probably don't know this, but I originally wanted to go into wildlife research. I only became a cop after my parents passed away. Honestly, I'm just a zoologist who got sidetracked into law enforcement."
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