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BUSCO RESIDENCE Zoraya remained motionless as the footsteps outside her room became louder. The steady thud echoed through the walls, jolting her to her core. Then a sound ripped through the air—a growl, deep and guttural, unmistakable. Her father’s growl. It shattered the paralysis gripping her, and in an instant, she was on her feet, her body moving before her mind could catch up. She flung the door open, her heart pounding in her ears, and was met with the deafening sound of crashing furniture, the walls trembling as something—or someone—was thrown against them. Her nostrils flared as she caught their scents. Two of them, distinct. Zoraya bolted down the hallway, her bare feet barely touching the ground as she dashed for the stairs, her voice cracking as she yelled for her parents.