Not angry.

Not aggressive.

Just confused.

That expression broke my heart.

Kenny saw it.

And something changed in him.

"Mom."

Diane rolled her eyes.

"Oh, please."

"You don't hit him."

"I didn't hit him."

"You swung your purse at him."

"Because he was under my feet."

"He lives here."

She crossed her arms.

"I don't like him."

"I know."

"Then why do you keep forcing him on me?"

Kenny looked at her for a long moment.

"Because he's family."

Diane laughed bitterly.

"A dog isn't family."

Kenny's expression hardened.

"To us, he is."

That was the first time he drew a real boundary.

From that day forward, Diane was no longer allowed to come over whenever she wanted.

She needed an invitation.

She didn't like that.

Not at all.

The Key

There was another problem.

A spare key.

Months earlier, Diane had been given an emergency key to our house.

It was supposed to be temporary.

She was helping us while I was recovering from a difficult week, and we thought it made sense for her to have access in case something happened.

But after the disagreement about Frankie, Kenny asked her to return it.

She said she would.

She didn't.

When he asked again, she became defensive.

"I'll bring it next time."

Then:

"I must have misplaced it."

Then:

"Why don't you trust me?"

Kenny eventually stopped arguing.

He assumed she had returned it.

We should have changed the lock.

We didn't.

That small decision would become important later.

The Morning Everything Changed

The morning of the incident began normally.

There was nothing unusual about it.

Jillian wanted pancakes.

Laurence couldn't find his favorite blue cup.

Frankie slept near the back door.

Kenny left for work.

I made coffee.

The children watched cartoons.

Frankie eventually woke up and walked over to me.

His tail moved slowly.

I scratched beneath his collar.

He leaned against my leg.

"Good morning, old man."

He looked at me.

I kissed the top of his head.

His fur smelled faintly of sunshine and the yard.

I remember that moment very clearly now.

Because I had no idea it would be the last time I saw him before everything changed.

The Quick Trip to the Pharmacy

That afternoon, I realized we were almost out of medicine.

It wasn't something I could postpone.

I called Mrs. Alvarez, our neighbor.

Her teenage daughter, Isabella, was nearby.

She agreed to watch the children for about half an hour.