It didn’t take long. Near the second row of trees, Samantha caught sight of something pale lying against the ground. She rushed toward it, her chest tightening painfully, and dropped to one knee. Her fingers brushed against a massive eagle feather—white and brown, unmistakable in the morning light.
A flicker of hope lit inside her. She waved frantically to Alex and the others, her heart clawing up her throat. She twisted around, scanning the orchard wildly, her flashlight darting over every branch, every tangle of brush, desperate to spot a glimpse of white fur—or a nest hidden overhead.