the smuggler’s bible

Murillo

The nest is hidden very well and Murillo discovers it only by accident. The bricks crumble at the edges of the hole as he pulls at them, revealing a space in the cavity between two walls lined with old newspaper and stuffing which, in retrospect, he should have noticed being smuggled out of the busted seam on the couch.

“It’s huge,” Braun says over his shoulder. “We have to call someone.”

“Like the mayor?”

“Maybe to start. Hurry before the mother comes back.”

“How do you know it was—” Murillo begins as the first mewling whelp steps into the light.