Years of politeness disappeared.

"You let him out on purpose."

She laughed.

"Oh, don't be dramatic."

"You knew he couldn't find his way home."

"He's a dog."

"He's sixteen."

"So?"

"He's nearly deaf."

"You're acting hysterical over an old animal."

I stepped closer.

"No."

My voice was shaking.

"I'm furious over family."

The Suitcase

I looked at the suitcase.

Then at Diane.

Then back at the suitcase.

"You didn't come here to see the children."

She didn't answer.

"You came here with luggage."

She remained silent.

"You used a key you were supposed to return."

Still nothing.

"You sent Isabella away."

Her expression hardened.

"And then Frankie disappeared."

Diane rolled her eyes.

"You are making something out of nothing."

But something had changed.

The room felt different.

My instincts were screaming.

This was not an accident.

I grabbed my keys.

"I'm going to find him."

I reached the front door.

And then it opened.

Kenny Came Home

Kenny stood there.

His breathing was heavy.

Mud covered his jeans.

His hair was messy.

He looked exhausted.

And in one hand, he held a folder.

The other hand held Frankie's leash.

For one second, I didn't understand.

Then I looked past him.

Frankie was sitting safely in the back seat of Kenny's truck.

Alive.

Safe.

Looking tired.

I nearly collapsed.

"Frankie."

I ran toward him.

Kenny opened the door.

Frankie slowly stood.

I wrapped my arms around him.

He smelled like dirt.

Like grass.

Like the outside.

He pressed his head against me.

And then his tail moved.

Once.

Twice.

Thump.

Thump.

I started crying.

"Frankie's Okay."

Kenny put his hand on my shoulder.

"He's okay."

I couldn't stop shaking.

"What happened?"

"I'll explain."

Diane suddenly stood up.