“She needs to see an exit,” he told the captain. “Right now, all she sees is a wall of people.” Firefighters arrived next, and Elias stopped them before they could approach with too much equipment. No sirens. No ladders scraping against the tree. No men shouting instructions from below. They placed an inflatable rescue cushion under the widest part of the canopy, slowly and quietly, in case she slipped.
While they worked, Elias’s phone buzzed. Lena had sent photos from the zoo. He opened them and saw it immediately: the old service gate near habitat three, twisted at the bottom where the storm had bent the frame. The lock was still hanging there, uselessly intact. Mud covered the ground beneath it, crossed by deep claw marks. Elias closed his eyes for one second.