By afternoon, the keepers had a plan. “Separate the others first,” Ethan ordered. “We’ll feed her alone.” The younger tigers were lured into side pens with slabs of meat.
Once the gates clanged shut, silence spread through the enclosure. The air felt charged. Ethan stepped forward, bucket in hand. “Easy, girl,” he called. “You know me.”
He tossed a small chunk near her paws. No reaction. Another piece landed closer—still nothing. Then, suddenly, Shira’s body snapped forward with a roar that shook the rails.
Lily gasped and grabbed her father’s arm. Dust swirled around the tigress, her claws carving the soil. “No one move,” Ethan warned, voice low and steady.
