Sahara paused on Oakridge Avenue, framed in the harsh glow of floodlights. She looked neither left nor right, only forward, as if seeing something no one else could. Police rifles tracked her every step. The crowd swayed, torn between awe and terror. The city’s predator had come home.
Gasps erupted when Sahara stepped forward. Cameras clicked, flashes exploding like lightning. Parents dragged their children back, sobbing. Officers shifted their aim, fingers tightening. “Hold your fire!” one shouted, but nerves frayed. Every second stretched taut, a fragile thread threatening to snap. Sahara’s shadow lengthened under the blazing lights.