It's past midnight. My fellow passengers are sprawled across the hard benches of the railway carriage – some folded over luggage, others squash-faced against windows. Our train rumbles on into the night, eating up the dark miles of south-eastern Botswana. "Do it now." Louise hisses. I get to my feet and scan up and down the carriage. There's no sign of movement. The border guards are far behind us.
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