“Yes. Alone. It’s sitting on my porch,” Catherine said. “That’s unusual. It might be separated. We’ll send someone to take a look.” The voice replied. “When?” she asked. “Could be later today. We’ve got a situation out by the east fence.”
Catherine’s eyes flicked back to the window. The cub had shifted into the shade, panting lightly. “Later,” she repeated flatly. “Yes, ma’am.” The line clicked dead. By noon, no one had come. The cub was still there, smaller now in the harsh light.