Lily’s steps slowed. She always approached quietly, as if entering a cathedral. The enclosure stretched across an acre of tall grass, shallow ponds, and shaded rock. At its center, beyond a curtain of bamboo, lay Shira, Maplewood’s oldest Bengal tigress. To most, she was just another animal behind glass, but to Lily, she was something else entirely; strong, regal, and alone.
“Look, Dad!” Lily’s voice rang out, bright and breathless. Caleb followed her gaze just in time to see the tigress step from the shade. Shira’s stripes gleamed in the soft morning light, her muscles rippling beneath her fur with every graceful stride. She paused near the pond, lowering her head to drink, her reflection scattering across the rippling surface.