Then Titan let out a low, almost pleading whine.
Not loud.
Not demanding.
Just… insistent.
Walter took off his cap, ran a hand over his graying hair, and knocked gently on the doorframe.
Elena looked up, her face streaked with tears, her eyes red and exhausted—and then she saw Titan.
Her entire body tensed.
Fear, immediate and instinctive.
It was understandable. A massive, scarred dog standing in a hospital doorway wasn’t exactly comforting at first glance.
Walter raised his hands slightly, as if approaching a frightened animal rather than a person. “Ma’am,” he said softly, his voice steady but careful, “I know how he looks. But I’ve seen him do things I can’t explain, not really. He doesn’t have much time left, and… well, sometimes he just knows when someone needs him.”
