By evening, the clinic hummed softly. Switch slept with a tiny snore, warm at last. Tracks stayed awake, watching every doorway like a sentry.
When Thomas stood to leave, Tracks let out a small sound—half whine, half question. He crouched again. “I’ll be back in the morning. Promise.”
The vet leaned on the counter. “They’ll stabilize overnight. You did the right thing.” Thomas nodded, though he wasn’t sure “right” covered what it felt like.
As he stepped into the cooling air outside, he realized the station’s screaming brakes had finally gone quiet in his head—replaced by two steady, stubborn heartbeats.
