Near dawn, officers cornered her in a shipping yard. Spotlights flared, engines revved, rifles lifted. A dart whizzed past, grazing her shoulder. Sahara bolted, leaping fences with impossible grace, though her stride faltered. The crowd watching believed she’d attacked someone. “Aggressive!” headlines screamed. In truth, she fled, wounded and terrified.
Tom punched the wall when he heard. “She’s hurt, and now you’ll call it proof!” His pleas went ignored. To the city, Sahara was no longer a lion—she was a headline, danger, and a spectacle. But Tom saw the truth: she and the city was running out of time.