At one point, Caleb stopped and crouched. He brushed aside a pile of dry leaves to reveal something small and jarring: a bright red plastic collar. Lisa’s stomach turned. “That’s not Nina’s…” “No,” Caleb said. “Too big. Too faded. This one’s been out here a while.”
She stared at the object, unease pooling in her chest. This wasn’t just about Nina anymore. This thing, whatever it was, had likely done this before. Maybe more than once. Her fingers gripped the strap of her bag tighter. Eventually, the trees began to thin. Through a break in the brush, Caleb raised his hand. “Wait.”