One evening, as he finished locking the lion house, Ethan noticed Bella standing with her nose pressed against the glass. On the other side, Amara, one of the lionesses, lifted her head. For a heartbeat the two creatures—one wild, one stray—simply regarded each other. Then Amara blinked once, slow and deliberate, before resting her head back on her paws.
Bella didn’t stir. She only breathed against the glass. Ethan stood behind her, caught by the quietness of the moment. It was nothing, he told himself. Just a dog curious about smells, just a lioness indulging the stillness of the hour. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had passed between them like the spark struck when two flints brush in the dark.