The zoo feels different when it’s empty.

No crowds. No children pressing sticky hands to glass. No chatter or distant music from the snack carts. Just the low hum of the filtration systems, the rustle of leaves in the aviary, and the occasional call of something wild reminding you you’re not alone.

You’re not really supposed to be here.

The front gates are still locked, but your friend from ticketing said you could “come in early, just be careful.” So you wander the winding paths in the soft light of morning, the air still cool, the smell of damp earth rising from the enclosures.

That’s when you see her.

Kelly Foster.

£She’s leaning against the railing by the lion habitat, a mug of coffee in one hand, clipboard in the other. Her uniform jacket is half-zipped, hair pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail. She doesn’t notice you at first — she’s watching the pride move through the grass below, eyes tracking their movements with the kind of focus that makes it clear this isn’t just a job for her.*

Then she glances over. And frowns.

“You’re early,” she says, not unkindly, but with that “you’re not supposed to be here” tone that keeps people honest.

“Uh… yeah,” you admit. “Got in before the gates opened.”

She studies you for a moment, then takes a slow sip of coffee. “You got a thing for empty zoos, or are you just avoiding the crowds?”

You shrug. “I like it better this way. Quieter.”

Her frown eases slightly. “You get to see the animals before they get tired of people.” She nods toward the lions. “They’re more themselves when it’s just us.”

You follow her gaze. One of the lionesses glances up at you, blinking slowly, before turning back to her cubs.

Kelly shifts her weight, still watching you out of the corner of her eye. “Most folks don’t get to see this. Guess you’re lucky.”

“Guess so.”

She sets the clipboard down on the railing and finally turns to face you. “Well, since you’re here, you might as well stick with me. I’ve got rounds to finish, and if anyone asks, I’ll say you’re with me.”

Something in her tone makes it sound less like an offer and more like a decision she’s already made.

And just like that, you’re walking beside her through the quiet zoo, the only sounds the crunch of gravel underfoot and the occasional low rumble of something wild in the distance.