Humane. Temporary. Just enough to contain. To capture. To prove. But as she read on, something shifted again. The entries took on an edge of desperation. “She’s avoiding the cameras. She knows. She’s moved the cub again. But I’ll find them. I’ve left bait by the southern ravine. Just one clean shot is all I need.”
Evelyn’s skin crawled. This wasn’t research anymore. This was pursuit. Possession. The line between study and obsession had been blurred—maybe shattered entirely. She flipped to the final entries. One was dated just a couple days ago. “Saw her again. She stared at me. Like she was warning me. Or pleading. I couldn’t tell. But the cub was with her.”