The Twist: He Was Never “Just” a Pet
Daniel woke later that afternoon, groggy and confused.
His first words weren’t about pain.
Or fear.
They were about the dog.
“Where’s… Rook?” he whispered.
Marianne blinked. “Your dog?”
Daniel nodded, panic sharpening through medication.
“He stays when I’m hurt,” he said. “He always knows before I do.”
They bent policy and brought Rook in.
When the dog entered, he didn’t rush or jump.
