Relief buckled her knees; she grabbed the reception counter. Hallett guided her to a stainless cart. Beneath warming lamps a small body rested, fur now soot-brown but no longer dripping. Its chest lifted—shallow, steady.
Dr. Hallett adjusted a sensor and spoke softly: “It’s a bear cub—female, roughly eight weeks.” The sentence detonated in Tessa’s mind. The massive animal on the beach hadn’t been hunting her—it had been pleading for help. She recalled the fear that gripped her when she first saw the bear, the moments she questioned its motives.