Inside that cheap room, though, something had shifted permanently.
Atticus was the first to wake up. He nudged my hand with his nose, his tail giving a slow, cautious wag. When he tried to stand, he struggled—but this time, he didn’t collapse. Sarah was up instantly, supporting his hips like she always did.
« Easy, buddy, » she whispered.
I grabbed my phone and searched for the nearest vet. There was one about fifteen minutes away—if the roads were even drivable.
“We’re taking him,” I said.
Sarah nodded. No hesitation. No discussion about cost. Just yes.
That was the difference.
The drive was slow and dangerous, but we made it.
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