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The UNICEF goodwill tour was finally back on track. With Audrey Hepburn, their Goodwill Ambassador, taking the lead, the team visited countries in Central and South America. Then, in September, they returned to Somalia—land of fate.
This East African nation was no longer the same as when they had fled a year earlier. Back then, Somalia looked poor, but only poor. There weren't so many armed men on the streets.
Now, even in the capital, there were checkpoints every few blocks. Sometimes across a single street, each side was held by a different armed faction.
On their last visit, one company of U.N. peacekeepers had been enough to cut through the chaos.
This time, even with a whole platoon of peacekeepers, the UNICEF convoy had to move cautiously.
Mrs. Hepburn still wanted to revisit the children's shelter in the south—the very one where they had once run into kidnappers and fled in panic.
But according to local officials, that facility had long since been abandoned. No one knew when it happened. Armed groups had stirred up trouble, peacekeepers had staged exercises, and then… nothing.
Though she felt regret, Hepburn did not dwell on it. She had seen and lived through too many similar tragedies. Every time it hurt, every time she felt reluctant to let go. Yet she had to admit she was slowly becoming accustomed to that kind of grief.
To keep herself from going numb, she chose to pour out her care and compassion—burning her life away in the process.
That was the impression Henry had, watching from the sidelines.
Especially given her frail frame, it was unbelievable how much energy she could summon. Even the men in the convoy groaned under the pace, but Audrey Hepburn never once complained.
Every time she stood before the children, she found ways to interact tenderly with their undernourished, still-maturing hearts. Sometimes she cradled them, softly humming lullabies.
The words might be foreign, but music knew no borders. Even the youngest children grew calm under the beauty of her voice.
She always managed a warm, gentle smile—one that gave courage to all who saw it. Just like on the silver screen, her slightest expression seemed able to heal the wounds of another's soul.
But as she said farewell to the children, stepped back into the car, and prepared to leave—disaster struck. Audrey Hepburn collapsed.
Henry was the first to notice something was wrong. Outwardly, she looked like she was only resting with eyes closed, but he saw the change in her pulse and her other vital signs.
"Doctor! Doctor!" Henry shouted. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵※𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮※𝓷𝓮𝓽
The team's physician rushed over. Seeing her pale and sweating, he said, "Her condition isn't normal."
After a quick check, the doctor had her lie flat across the back seat. He rolled up a blanket to place beneath her knees, keeping them bent.
"Cancel the rest of today's program. Get her back to the hotel immediately. We'll do a proper examination there."
With their most important member down, the rest of the trip was meaningless. After a word with UNICEF staff, the entire group headed for the hotel to arrange an early check-in.
As Henry carried her toward her room, Hepburn stirred faintly, whispering weakly:
"Child, just give me a painkiller. I'll be fine."
Henry forced a strained smile.
"Boss, one pill won't cut it. At this rate, I should pour out the whole bottle for you to swallow. Your face has gone white with pain."
"Silly child, medicine isn't taken like that."
"Good—that means you're still lucid, still thinking clearly. So let's have the doctor take a look. No more self-diagnosing."
He laid her gently on the clean bed. Just as he turned to let the doctor take over, Hepburn grabbed his hand. She spoke with effort:
"The children… the visits…"
Henry understood instantly.
"I'll meet with the UNICEF team. We'll work out alternatives. Boss, you rest and let the doctor check you over. When you're feeling better, I'll report back."
She nodded and let go. The doctor and nurse quickly closed the door to begin their examination.
Meanwhile, a U.N. staffer asked Henry:
"How is Mrs. Hepburn?"
"The doctor's inside now. I shouldn't say anything before his diagnosis," Henry replied, forcing a smile.
"And what about the rest of the schedule?" another asked anxiously.
Henry clapped his hands to focus everyone.
"Listen—tomorrow's plans will depend on the doctor's assessment. But as for today, the remaining visits are canceled.
"Since our destinations are all nearby, we'll split into teams, deliver the aid supplies directly, and collect signed receipts.
"Make sure to explain that Mrs. Hepburn fell ill, so the site visits are canceled, but the promised materials will still be delivered. This is Plan C from our contingency protocols. Everyone clear?"
Since the conditions matched the criteria for executing a backup plan, and no one was acting arbitrarily, there were no objections.
The group divided into teams to escort the supplies, fulfilling today's commitments. Others phoned U.N. headquarters in New York to report, and coordinated the logistics for the coming days.
After all, the volume of aid was enormous. Each trip covered more than one or two stops, so supplies couldn't just follow the convoy around and be handed out on the spot.
Instead, distribution centers were set up along the route. When the convoy reached that stage of the tour, they would collect the materials and then proceed with deliveries.
This system lightened the convoy's burden and made the logistics manageable.
But with their leading figure collapsed, the future course depended entirely on the Goodwill Ambassador's condition. Until then, the entire team had to keep every variable under control—ready to adapt at a moment's notice.
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My new novel, Marvel Manifestor, is out now.
But a story is nothing without its readers. I have a simple plea:
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Thank you for giving my world a little of your time.
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