Tom steered into the gravel lot and parked. Owen was out before the truck had fully stopped, clutching the towel against his chest. The front door burst open before Owen could reach for the handle. Dr. Mallory stepped out, wiping her hands on a towel, her expression shifting from confusion to alarm as she took in the mud-spattered group.
“What happened?” she asked, eyes darting from Owen’s filthy clothes to the bundle in his arms. “We found it in a box,” he said, voice unsteady. “Under a mudslide. It’s alive, but barely.” She nodded once, brisk and composed. “Inside, quickly.”