Kevin shook his head. “Not even close.”
A cold prickle ran down Lisa’s spine. She stepped onto the porch, eyes sweeping the tree line at the back of her yard. The quiet no longer felt calm—it felt watchful. That night, she didn’t sleep.
She tried. She curled up on the couch with the TV murmuring in the background, but her gaze kept drifting toward the sliding glass doors and the darkness beyond. Every creak of the house, every whisper of wind through the branches made her tense. Kevin had sent her the photo of the print, and she kept pulling it up on her phone. It was massive. She found herself comparing it to a picture of Nina curled in her palm, small as a puff of cotton, and the difference made her stomach knot.
Whatever had taken Nina… it hadn’t been by chance. It was strong. Intentional. Not a fox. Not a raccoon. Not the neighbour’s Labrador. This was a predator. By morning, she was printing new flyers—this time with Kevin’s kitten added to the description.
Two missing pets. Likely the same cause. At the bottom, she added: Possibly dangerous animal involved. Maybe someone would take it seriously. She went door to door again, but now with questions instead of pleas. “Seen anything strange lately? Large animals? Other pets gone missing? Unusual noises?”
Most shook their heads, offering polite sympathy. A few frowned in thought. One woman mentioned hearing a low, rumbling growl behind her shed a few nights back, but assumed it was the neighbour’s dog. Another said her bins had been dragged halfway down the alley—she’d blamed teenagers, but maybe not.
It wasn’t just her anymore. The whole street was starting to feel unsettled. That evening, Lisa sat on the porch steps, her back against the railing, staring at the yard. Her phone buzzed. Caleb. She hadn’t spoken to him in months, but they’d known each other since childhood.