The Crate

Text 1: A Quiet Release, by Eleanor Saye

An original novel extract.

Rain ticked on the shed roof. Rowan stood with the wooden crate between her boots, listening for movement inside it. Nothing. She listened again. Behind her, Mr Patel folded the release form into a neat square and tucked it away, as if they had all morning.

“When you’re ready,” he said. Rowan slid the bolt back by a centimetre. The sound seemed enormous. She stopped with her hand still on the latch. A damp feather lay against the crate’s narrow opening, trembling whenever the wind found it.

Rowan drew in a breath and swung the little door open. The owl did not move. The seconds gathered, one on top of another, until even the rain seemed to wait. Her hand hovered above the crate. Then, from inside, came a soft scrape. Rowan stepped back. The open door faced the grey morning, but the bird remained unseen.