When the old keeper forgot one latch, the 400-pound silverback reached through the steel

Linda made a sound behind him and turned it into a cough.

Tom leaned closer. His eyes cleared in a way I had learned not to trust, because clarity had become weather now, not climate. It came, changed the light, and passed whether anyone begged it to stay or not.

“You still checking on me?” he asked.

Winston pressed his forehead near his palm.