He just sat there, holding Barnaby close, feeling the slow, steady rhythm of the dog’s breathing return to normal. The shaking faded. The tension left his fragile body.
For a long moment, neither of them let go.
Because they both remembered.
Just from opposite sides.
A woman walking her golden retriever slowed as she passed the bench. She recognized the dog instantly.
“Is that… Barnaby?” she asked softly.
The young man looked up, surprised. “Yeah,” he said.
Her eyes filled with warmth. “I saw his story on the news years ago. That brave little dog…”
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