Page 3: Face to Face

The ball arced over the fence. Smalls winced.

“There it goes again,” he muttered. “Why is it always me?”

Benny didn’t hesitate. He vaulted the fence in one clean leap.

Inside the yard, everything was silent. Then—a rustle. Benny turned. And there he was.

The Beast.

Only... he didn’t look so beastly.

Big? Definitely. His paws were the size of baseball mitts. But his eyes? Gentle. Curious. Like he was asking, "Want to play?"