That evening, she sat with Shadow on the porch, staring at the treeline. She imagined cages, headlines, strangers dissecting her bond. She clenched her fists. “I won’t let them take you,” she murmured. The panther blinked slowly, leaning against her shoulder. Loyalty and dread twined together like tangled vines.
Her phone buzzed: a community alert warning of a predator in the area. Coyotes, officials suggested. Elise closed the message quickly, her throat dry. She peeked at Shadow, who watched her intently, as though sensing her thoughts. “It isn’t about you,” she whispered. But she knew she couldn’t hang onto Shadow forever.