The dog shifted again, his tail thumping once against the ground. He looked at her, eyes brimming with something raw, almost pleading. It wasn’t aggression anymore. It was desperation, as though begging her to stay, to bear witness, to hold on until help arrived.
Tina’s throat tightened. She hugged her arms to her chest, torn between relief and dread. Maybe this wasn’t a baby at all. Maybe it was something else entirely, something still vulnerable, still in danger. Her certainty dissolved, but the urgency remained.