Chapter 1 — Harper’s First Day
Harper
The zoo unfolded like a hidden world as Harper Bennett followed Noah Delgado through the winding paths. The air was alive with the chatter of birds and the distant hum of visitors, though the deeper they ventured, the more the sounds of the city faded away. Harper adjusted her teal bandana, the one with tiny red pandas stitched along the edges, fidgeting with the knot as her nerves buzzed.
“This is where the magic happens,” Noah said, gesturing grandly as they passed the Giraffe Savanna. A few of the animals grazed lazily beneath the morning sun, their impossibly long necks swaying in slow, hypnotic arcs. Harper’s breath caught, and she slowed her pace to take it in.
“They’re incredible,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Noah grinned. “Wait until you see them up close. Feeding time is a whole thing. They’ll slobber all over you, but trust me, it’s worth it.”
Harper laughed softly, though her stomach churned with nervous energy. She’d spent the last two years trying to piece her life back together, and now here she was—on her first day as a zoo volunteer, surrounded by creatures who seemed to have their lives perfectly in order.
“Over there’s the Central Lagoon,” Noah continued, pointing toward a shimmering oval of water framed by drooping willow trees. The glassy surface reflected the pale morning sky, and a few ducks paddled lazily near the shore. “That’s my favorite spot to hide from work. If anyone asks, I’m birdwatching.”
Harper smiled, tucking the suggestion away like a lifeline. The stillness of the lagoon called to her, a quiet promise of calm in the midst of the unknown.
As they rounded a corner, Noah stopped abruptly. He motioned toward a white building tucked behind a line of trees. “That’s the vet clinic. We’re heading inside. Dr. Calloway’s in the middle of something intense, so try to stay out of the way.”
Harper’s stomach flipped. She’d read about Dr. Ethan Calloway during her volunteer orientation—a renowned wildlife veterinarian who’d traded fieldwork for the zoo after a career-shifting injury. He was something of a legend, though his reputation for being distant and exacting had also preceded him.
Noah pushed open the door, and Harper was immediately hit by the sharp, sterile scent of antiseptic. The clinic was compact but bustling, with staff moving briskly between rooms. The faint hum of medical equipment underscored the tension in the air.
Through a large observation window, Harper spotted him. Dr. Calloway stood near a table where a cheetah lay sedated, its sleek body marred by a jagged wound along its flank. Ethan’s tall frame was unmistakable, though he leaned slightly to one side, favoring his injured leg. His hands moved with precision, carefully stitching the wound while a younger staff member handed him tools.
Harper felt a lump form in her throat. The focus in his expression, the steadiness of his movements—it was mesmerizing. Her own hands instinctively curled into fists, as if to steady herself. What must it feel like, she wondered, to hold so much skill and responsibility in your hands?
“Wow,” she breathed, her voice barely audible.
Noah leaned closer. “Yeah, he’s kind of a big deal. But don’t let that scare you. He’s just a guy. Well, mostly.”
Ethan’s head lifted suddenly, his hazel eyes locking onto Harper through the glass. She froze, caught in the intensity of his gaze. For a moment, it felt as though he could see straight through her—past her carefully constructed composure to the messy tangle of grief and uncertainty she carried.
“Clamp,” Ethan said curtly, his voice carrying through the observation room to the assistant beside him. His tone was low but deliberate, pulling Harper out of her reverie.
Then he turned back to his work, dismissing her presence entirely.
Noah nudged her forward. “C’mon, I’ll show you where we keep the enrichment supplies. That’s more your speed for now.”
Harper followed reluctantly, though her thoughts lingered on the cheetah and the man who seemed to carry an air of quiet command.
---
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of introductions and instructions. Harper learned how to prepare enrichment toys for the animals, scrub feeding stations, and navigate the labyrinthine back paths of the zoo. Her muscles ached from the unaccustomed work, but she pushed through, buoyed by Noah’s easy humor and endless patience.
At one point, as Harper adjusted her bandana, Noah gave it a playful tug. “You’ve got quite the collection, huh? What’s the story behind this one?”
Harper hesitated, the question catching her off guard. “It’s… just something I like to do,” she said lightly, though her fingers brushed the edge of the embroidered red pandas.
“Well, it suits you. Bright, but practical,” he said with a grin, letting the conversation drop.
By early afternoon, they found themselves near the Red Panda Sanctuary. The enclosure was lush and inviting, with tall bamboo stalks swaying gently in the breeze. A pair of red pandas perched on a branch, their russet coats gleaming in the sunlight as they nibbled on slices of fruit.
“I think I’ve found my favorite spot,” Harper said, leaning against the railing.
“Good choice. They’re crowd-pleasers,” Noah replied. “But don’t let their cuteness fool you—they’re escape artists. We’ve had a couple of close calls over the years.”
Harper’s eyes scanned the fence surrounding the enclosure. It seemed sturdy enough, but as her gaze traced its edges, she noticed something odd—a small gap near the base where the metal mesh didn’t quite meet the ground.
“Hey, is that normal?” she asked, pointing it out.
Noah frowned and crouched to inspect it. “Huh. Probably just wear and tear. I’ll log it with maintenance.”
As he straightened, one of the red pandas shifted on its branch, glancing toward the gap. It lingered there longer than Harper expected, its tiny nose twitching as if sensing something unusual.
“Should we, I don’t know, do something now?” Harper pressed, her unease growing.
“Nah, it’s fine for now. Those guys hardly ever go near the ground,” Noah said, standing and brushing off his hands. “But good eye. You’re already thinking like a zookeeper.”
Harper nodded, though the prickling sensation at the back of her neck didn’t fade.
---
Later that evening, Harper found herself lingering near the Central Lagoon. The zoo had emptied of visitors, leaving the grounds quiet and peaceful. She sank onto one of the wooden benches, letting out a slow breath.
She’d made it through her first day. Barely.
Her thoughts wandered to Ethan. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d judged her the moment he saw her—that she was just another well-meaning but inexperienced volunteer trying to make herself useful.
“I’ll prove him wrong,” she murmured under her breath, though the words felt hollow.
The distant sound of rustling leaves pulled her attention back to the present. She turned toward the Red Panda Sanctuary, her unease from earlier bubbling up again. The gap in the fence had seemed small, insignificant even—but what if it wasn’t?
A flicker of movement caught her eye. She squinted into the shadows, her breath hitching.
Before she could dwell on it further, a sharp, high-pitched chirp pierced the air. Her heart leapt as she recognized the sound.
A red panda.
Springing to her feet, Harper scanned the area frantically. The sanctuary was dark now, its bamboo shadows impenetrable. But there, near the base of the fence—the gap.
It was empty.
The realization hit her like a jolt of electricity. One of the red pandas had escaped.
Panic surged through her, but she forced herself to focus. She needed to act, and fast.
Fumbling for her phone, she called Noah. His voice came through groggy but alert.
“Noah, it’s Harper. One of the red pandas—it’s out! I think it got through the gap in the fence.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Yes. I heard it. Please, we need to find it before it gets too far.”
“I’m on my way,” Noah said, his tone snapping to urgency.
As Harper hung up, she turned back toward the sanctuary, her heart pounding. Somewhere out there, a small, vulnerable creature was loose in a world that wasn’t safe for it.
And it was her responsibility to help bring it back.
