Kevin had sent her the photo of the print, and she couldn’t stop looking at it. It was enormous. She compared it to Nina’s tiny paws on her phone background, a photo where Nina was curled in Lisa’s hand like a roll of cotton, and the contrast made her stomach churn.
Whatever had taken her kitten… it was something capable. Something deliberate. Not a fox. Not a raccoon. Not a neighbor’s dog. A predator. The next morning, Lisa printed new flyers. She added Kevin’s kitten to the description.