Tom Reyes fought to join the search. “She’s not prowling—she’s disoriented,” he told them. “If we give her space, we can bring her back unharmed.” The chief dismissed him. “You’re too close. You can’t see the danger.” Tom clenched his fists, determined. He knew Sahara better than anyone alive.
Meanwhile, Sahara pressed deeper into the city. The scents overwhelmed her—oil, trash, fried food, wet concrete. She slipped through alleys unseen, her pace steady, her eyes scanning for something missing. Every sound startled her: honking horns, barking dogs, fireworks crackling in the distance. Still, she pressed on, driven by memory.