They emerged into a small clearing blackened by rain and ash. Soon, the place was crawling with floodlights and investigators. Rangers marked tire tracks leading down a narrow access road. “Vans, several of them,” Reed noted. “Left before the rain got heavy. Could’ve been where the circus was camped.”
They found a half-burnt child’s small sleeping bag, duct-taped at the edges. Reed’s flashlight swept across it, revealing something darker beneath—a rope, frayed and damp, knotted clumsily. “He was tied,” he said grimly. The bear rumbled low, almost mournful, and stepped back, its gaze fixed toward the river’s edge.