Deftly, and as hard as she could, she scraped at the outer husk of the coconut; soon, she was left with the familiar, hairy exterior of the coconut.

Blaire wiped away the perspiration from her forehead, and went to work again.

The hairy exterior soon peeled away under her onslaught, leaving small pieces of coconut twine. Fragile, but mostly firm.

She bound the knife and the handle together. Blaire admired her handiwork in the afternoon sun, and then cut a hole into the coconut.

When she had finished draining it of its water, she threw the shell away.

Imagine our doctor’s surprise when she heard a moan – and a thump – from the direction of the coconut shell.

Blaire followed the noise hastily, hope building up inside of her.

“Hello?” she was surprised at the hoarseness of her voice. “Is anyone there?”

“B…Blaire?”

“Yes! Who is this?”

“It’s Tray…”

“Thank God! Do you have Anastasia with you?” she asked, kneeling down beside him.

“I don’t remember…”

Just when I was getting happy.