When Steve first came inside he could barely speak.

He collapsed into a chair and sat there in shock. Mel, Pops, and Aunt Cassie gathered around him. Luckily Kevin had played hard all morning and was taking a nap.

Mel studied Steve’s face. It was a jumble of anger and sadness.

He took a deep breath.

“There was grizzly attack last night at Granite Park, at the campground below the chalet, just after midnight.” He spoke so quietly that they had to lean close. “A nineteen-year-old girl was killed. The grizzly dragged her from her sleeping bag. She had a friend with her. A young man. The bear bit him up. But he survived.”

Mel’s whole body started to shake.

“One hour later,” Steve continued, “there was another attack. A second girl was killed.”

He swallowed. “And it wasn’t at Granite Park.”

“Where was it?” Mel asked.

“Trout Lake.”

Pops frowned. “But that’s at least ten miles from Granite Park. There must be a mistake. No grizzly can move that fast.”

Steve closed his eyes and took a breath. “It was a different grizzly.”

“But, son, that can’t be right,” Pops said. “It’s just impossible. Two girls killed in one night, by two different grizzlies?”

“I know, sir,” Steve said. “But it happened. It happened. I heard from the rangers today. They’re hunting for the grizzlies right now.”

Mel clasped her hands together. She felt sick.

Pops stood up slowly.

“All right,” he said. “I’ve made a decision. We’re leaving here as soon as we can. It’s not safe to stay.” His voice cracked a little. Like when he’d told Mel Mom was gone, after the crash.

By Tuesday morning they had packed up, cleaned the cabin, and loaded the car. Steve came to say good-bye to all of them. He was staying; the rangers had asked for his help.

“They understand that this place needs some big changes,” he said. “They’re already starting to clean up some of the campgrounds. And they’re going to do much more. So at least that’s a start.”

“But look what it took … those poor girls,” Pops said.

Both girls were nineteen, and in college. They worked at Glacier. Just like Mom and Cassie had when they were in college.

“And the bears?” Cassie asked. “Have they found them?”

“The Granite Park bear was a mother with two cubs,” Steve said, nodding. “They’ve shot that bear. Her paw was completely torn up, probably by glass. She had to be in pain.”

“And the other one?” Pops asked. “The Trout Lake bear?”

Steve looked down for a moment. And Mel knew what he was going to say.

“It was the same bear that came here. I’m sure. Skinny, sickly. They shot it, too. That bear was also suffering. Its teeth were full of glass.”

Old Slim.

Of course that bear wasn’t a monster. He was just a sick animal, in pain.

Steve hugged them all good-bye. He said he’d visit them at home in a few weeks.

And an hour later they were pulling away from the cabin, with Cassie’s Volkswagen following behind. She was coming to stay with them for a week in Wisconsin.

Mel turned and watched as Lake McDonald slowly disappeared, until it was just a thin line of turquoise in the distance. She rolled down her window and breathed in the sweet smell of pine. Some birds sang out, as though they were saying good-bye.

Mel whispered good-bye back, just in case.

Just in case they never came back to Glacier again.