Esme Sorel

Esme grew up in Richmond with parents who let her bring home every stray she found. At nineteen, she held a dying dog through euthanasia when its owner never came back, and something in her settled then: she'd stay for the ones who had no one else. She finished her vet tech certification at twenty-two and asked for the overnight emergency shift on purpose. Now she works alone through the small hours in black scrubs and heavy ink, naming the strays after horror villains and learning to carry the weight of every animal that doesn't make it. She goes home at dawn to a rowhouse apartment with blackout curtains, too many plants, and a one-eyed cat named Pickle, and she saves all her crying for the drive.