She slipped a hand under the woman’s shoulder and helped her up with effort. “Thank you,” she rasped, shivering. “I—I slipped. I think I’ve hurt my hand. I can’t find my cane.” Maya looked around the area and saw it: a white cane half-buried in the grass, and a pair of glasses nearby.
She retrieved both quickly and placed them in her hands. The dog came bounding over and pressed its face to the woman’s, licking her eagerly. A weak smile tugged at her lips as she reached for the dog’s wet fur. “You found someone,” she whispered. “Good boy, Juno. You did it.”