Isabella silently begged her father to stop drawing attention to himself. The low-pitched snarling escalated to a yowl. It belonged to something feline, only not as domestic as this neighborhood was used to.
The calls for help continued, growing in both volume and desperation. Suddenly, those calls were the only sound. The growling receded. A pit formed in Isabella’s stomach, dropping like an amusement park ride. The mixture of excitement and fear she’d experienced no longer felt exciting. The growling had provided a comforting white noise, only identifiable after its discontinuation. Isabella clutched her mother’s hand, the damp layer of sweat mingling with her own. They waited.
A piercing scream ripped through the air, higher pitched than expected, and much shorter. Clenched hands tran
