Tina’s pulse spiked, air snagging in her throat. She could only think of a baby. Abandoned here, left to die, guarded only by this desperate dog. Her rational mind fought the thought, but her senses screamed otherwise. The size, the shape, the faint noises—it all lined up in chilling clarity.
Her knees went weak. She locked her car and staggered forward. Despite her intentions earlier, she could no longer be indifferent. This wasn’t a choice anymore. If that bundle held what she thought it did, seconds could mean the difference between life and death.
Tina edged closer, her breath held tight, every muscle tense. The dog lowered his head, lips peeling back in a warning snarl. But he didn’t lunge. He pressed harder against the blanket instead, as though shielding it with his very life.
The lump beneath the fabric was heartbreakingly small. Rounded shoulders, narrow taper—unmistakably shaped like a swaddled infant. The thought struck her so hard her vision blurred. A small infant, here, on the roadside, only a dog standing between it and the world.
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