Lara slipped into the mansion through the back entrance. The Norse siblings peeled off without a word, leaving her alone with the small, trembling body in her arms.
The pup was barely conscious, fur matted with dried blood and dirt, ribs sharp under her fingers. She worked quickly, hands steady, breath slow — the way you learn to be when panic has never saved anyone.
When she finished, the little black pup was clean, stitched, and sleeping, chest rising in fragile, stubborn breaths. She placed him gently inside a padded cage, lingering for a second as if making sure life had truly decided to stay.
Only then did she head to the side garden.
Sunlight spilled across the grass where Shay and Sandro were chasing each other, laughter cutting through the quiet like music in an empty house. The moment Shay spotted her, she froze — then bolted.
"Mommy! Where have you been?"
