The Bark That Split the Night
Marianne returned during night rounds.
The dog hadn’t lain down.
Hadn’t slept.
Had barely shifted at all.
Then she noticed something that chilled her.
The dog was trembling.
Not from fear.
From effort.
Like he was holding himself in a state of readiness that demanded constant tension.
“You can rest,” she whispered, even though she didn’t know why she cared if he did.
