I looked at the dog.
The way he kept staring at the road.
The way his body tensed at every white SUV, even for a second.
“He’s here,” I said slowly. “He’s barely moving.”
On the other end of the line, her voice broke.
“Oh no…” she whispered. “No, no, no…”
Then she said something that made the whole scene even worse.
“Walter died yesterday morning. His son promised to bring Bo home.”
I looked at the fabric tied around the dog’s muzzle.
I stood there for a moment, the noise of the highway fading into something distant and meaningless.
Bo didn’t move.
He didn’t look at me.
He kept watching the road like it was the only instruction that still mattered.
Janine’s voice came through the phone again, quieter now.
“Walter was too weak to take care of him at the end,” she said. “His son… he said he’d handle everything. He said Bo would be safe.”
