Marcus appeared first—plain jacket, steady movements. A second man stepped out behind him, taller, face hidden under a dark mask. They didn’t speak. They didn’t look around like they were worried. They moved like this was routine. Eleanor didn’t move until she saw what they lifted from the van. Rex.
He was limp in Marcus’s arms, head lolling, paws dangling. Sedation made him look smaller, helpless in a way that punched straight through her chest. Eleanor’s breath caught so hard it hurt. She looked at Sarah. Sarah’s eyes tightened. Then she gave one small nod—no words, just agreement: We can’t let them take him somewhere we can’t reach.