In the days that followed, the city softened. Critics demanded accountability from the zoo; others lobbied for a sanctuary where both sisters might heal together. Children sketched lions not as monsters but as guardians. Oakridge’s narrative had changed to one of survival and kinship.
Weeks later, Tom visited them in the quiet vet wing. Sahara lay curled beside Nyla, their breathing steady, eyes half-closed in trust. Outside, the city bustled on, already chasing new headlines. But for Tom, the memory endured: the night mercy triumphed, and a lion reminded humans of what family truly meant.