Authorities raised the stakes: a $10,000 reward for tips leading to capture. Suddenly, everyone became a hunter. Calls flooded dispatch, most false ones, clogging the lines. The chief grumbled, “We’ll be set back by days, at this rate.” Yet Sahara always slipped away, too swift for bullets, too clever for traps, driven by something deeper.
Tom traced her sightings on the map again. The arc was unmistakable: Sahara was circling back, closer each night, orbit tightening toward the zoo. “She’s not lost,” he muttered. “She’s coming home.” But the city didn’t see patterns. And every barricade narrowed the path to tragedy.