“Why didn’t you tell me all this before?” Clara asked as they hurried through the trees. “We tried,” a boy called Marcus said. “But you walked away the first time, Mr. Grady chased us off the second, and yesterday you left before I reached your door. After that, we didn’t want to tell you we might have found him until we were certain.”
They reached a clearing as another sharp crack echoed overhead. Bubbles crouched high inside an enormous oak, nearly invisible against daylight. Clara called his name, and the cat immediately lifted his head. His answering cry sounded weak. The damaged branch shifted beneath him, scattering bark toward rocks lining the deep ravine.