But neither Elias nor Henrik left the dock. They stood there, dripping and silent, watching the researchers carry the cub into the rehab shelter, the door closing behind them with a soft click. Snow fell again—lazy, drifting flakes that melted on contact.
The storm had passed, but its weight remained. Time stretched. An hour later, the door opened. A woman in a red parka stepped out. Mid-forties, sharp-eyed, calm—she moved with the quiet authority of someone used to handling life at its edge.