One evening, after the gates had closed and the zoo had fallen quiet, Ethan lingered by the nursery window. Bella lay in the straw, the cubs tumbling over her in clumsy play. One pawed at her ear, another gnawed at her tail, while the third tucked itself into the curve of her body. She tolerated it all with weary patience, her eyes drifting shut as if content in her impossible role.
Ethan pressed his palm against the glass, watching the scene with a mix of pride and dread. He knew the staff were right. The cubs were growing quickly. Their paws were already heavy, their claws sharp. One day soon, they would be too strong for games. One day, instinct might wake. But tonight, Bella’s steady breath kept the cubs safe.