Whether the wolf understood didn’t matter. She had to believe the words herself. Turning toward the cliff tunnel, she broke into a run.
The wolf followed to the tunnel’s mouth but stopped there, its eyes glowing from the shadows. A final whimper rose behind her—half warning, half plea.
Noemi gave a single nod, a silent vow, and pressed forward.
Every stride jolted the tiny body in her arms. At one terrifying moment, the pup’s head lolled back, jaw slack. For a heartbeat she thought it was gone.
“Stay with me,” she gasped, adjusting her hold so its nose stayed clear. Then, faintly, the fragile chest lifted. Relief shot through her, and she pushed herself harder.
Lights appeared through the storm—first a shuttered diner, then a souvenir shop sealed behind iron grates. At last, a glowing sign: Shoreline Veterinary.
She pounded her fist against the glass door. Inside, a teenager glanced up from a phone, eyes widening at the sight of her.
The lock clicked. “Doctor!” the girl shouted as Noemi stumbled in.