She hummed a hymn, letting the lamb take its time toddling down the yellow grass. This far from the barn, she couldn’t hear the other animals. The shed door swung in on complaining hinges, giving way to cool, musty shadow. The lamb was less eager to leave the sun, but a gentle tension on its yarn leash led it with ease. The woman stood over it as it stepped lightly over the threshold, its glossy eyes searching the dark for something familiar. Out of the light, the shed walls were discolored. Something dripped in the back. The old blood stank.