"Cal." I touched his shoulder. "Look."
He lifted his head.
The gray feral was on his feet now. Separated from the others by a few inches — not much, but noticeable. His eyes were fixed on the window. On Cal.
Cal made a sound. Low, uncertain. A question.
The gray one's ear flicked.
Then, slowly, deliberately, he held Cal's gaze.
Three seconds. Four. Five.
An eternity, for a creature who had forgotten what connection meant.
Then the gray one looked away. Settled back down with the others. The moment was over.
But Cal was trembling beside me. Through our bond, I felt his emotion — hope and grief and desperate longing, all tangled together.
"He remembers you," I said quietly.
Cal whined. Pressed closer to me.
"He's in there, Cal. Somewhere underneath all the fear."
I sat with him until I had to leave for class. Watched the gray feral sleep. Looked for signs of the person he'd been.
I came back that evening, as promised.
The security guard was already inside the observation room when I arrived.
Young, nervous, clearly new to the job. He was standing at the monitoring station, checking something on a tablet, not even looking at Stone.
It didn't matter.
Stone was already raging.
Throwing himself at the barrier with a violence that made the wall shudder. Snarling, snapping, claws scraping against the reinforced surface with a sound that made my teeth ache. All the calm we'd built — this morning, last night — gone. Just like that.
"Miss Orlav." The guard turned when he heard me enter. "You're not supposed to be in here without—"
"Get out."
"I need to verify—"
"Get. Out." I stepped toward him, forcing him to step back. "You being here is making things worse. Leave. Now."
Something in my expression must have convinced him. He left.
But the damage was done.
Stone was still raging — throwing himself at the barrier with a fury that made the previous day look gentle. His eyes were wild again, unfocused, seeing only threats.
"Stone." I pressed both palms against the glass. "Stone, it's okay. He's gone. It's just me."
No response. Just the endless, desperate violence of an animal that had remembered it was trapped.
I talked. About nothing, about everything. About the snow melting on the pathways, about the paper I still hadn't started, about the way James's eyes crinkled when he laughed.
