Maya paused at the top of the stairs. The barking kept going—loud, quick, and constant. She hadn’t noticed any strays in the neighborhood recently so where was the barking coming from? And why hadn’t it stopped? Curiosity edged into concern. She turned around and walked toward the front window.
Carefully, she pulled the curtain to the side. And there it was. A soaked, golden-brown dog standing near the garden fence, paws muddy, barking directly toward the house. Maya leaned in, eyes narrowing. Something about the way it barked—over and over—made her stomach twist. Something wasn’t right.