In the following days, officials combed the woods, setting traps, searching for any sign. None came. Elise stayed silent, claiming ignorance. Yet each night, she sat by her porch, listening. Beyond the crickets and owls, sometimes she swore she heard it—a low cough, distant, watchful, unbroken by time.
Whispers in town shifted from fear to legend. Some spoke of a black ghost that haunted the ridge, guardian of the lost. Elise said nothing, carrying the truth quietly. Shadow lived on in memory, as proof that love could blur the line between wild and home.