I went out to the parking lot to find a public phone.
The moment I dialed the numbers, I felt that more than asking my Circle for help again, I was also putting their loyalty—and the oath of friendship we had made when we were little more than pups—to the test.
I felt more afraid of the answer than of the panther.
The line rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Good. There was a tone. The number was still active.
Thank God for Rex’s cautious nature.
But no one answered.
I tried twice more.
Nothing.
I waited a few minutes, trying not to panic, and dialed again.
Nothing.
I slammed the receiver down in frustration, my hands trembling.
At that moment it didn’t occur to me that the person I was trying to reach might simply be working or away from home. I could still receive an answer late
