On a hunch, Sam went to the training facility. He parked far down the road and walked the rest, keeping his phone silent in his pocket. The place looked ordinary—fences, sheds, floodlights, but it seemed ordinary had learned long ago how to hide cruelty in plain sight.
He waited until dusk, when the noise softened, and routines loosened. From the edge of the property, Sam filmed quietly. Dogs lunged on command. Handlers barked orders. A syringe appeared, disappeared. No gloves. No logs. Sam felt his pulse climb as the picture sharpened.