Her eyes stayed locked on the rooftop. The orchard felt suspended in time, even the wind holding its breath. Alex leaned in closer, peering into the nest’s shadowy depths. Samantha’s heart pounded. She felt as though the weight of the moment might crush her.
Seconds dragged mercilessly. Samantha stood rigid, trying to keep herself from crying out. Her thoughts spiraled: what if Pablo was hurt? What if it was already too late? She squeezed her eyes shut, sending a desperate prayer into the stillness. Please let him be okay. Please let him be alive.
Then the voice came—shaky but sure: “It’s him! The bunny’s up here—he’s okay!” A gasp rippled through Samantha. She stumbled forward, tears rushing to her eyes. Atop the shed, Pablo’s white form shifted, happily pawing at the twigs in the nest, completely unaware of the panic he’d caused.
Her knees nearly gave out. For a long second, she couldn’t move—just stared, stunned and shaking. Against every warning, every sympathetic comment, she had kept searching. People told her it was hopeless, that nature had taken its course. But now, here he was. Unharmed. Whole. And still hers.