They fanned out through the orchard. Flashlights swept across gnarled roots and dead leaves. Lisa pushed through thickets and turned over fallen branches. Every second felt stretched and sharp. Then, she saw it—atop the old orchard shed: a massive nest, balanced like a crown.
“There!” Lisa cried, pointing upward. Everyone turned. The nest sat high atop the old orchard shed—sprawling, tangled, and impossibly large. Something white shifted at the top. Lisa’s heart hammered against her ribs. “If she’s in there…” she whispered, the words catching. The air thickened with anticipation.