“Are you here with someone?” she asked gently. “Your mom or dad?”

Still no clear answer—just a downward glance and a stifled sniffle.

Then Max did something unexpected. He began circling the boy, tail low but wagging, before sitting firmly beside him. His gaze lifted to Janet, and he let out a sharp, insistent bark.

Janet’s pulse quickened. She knew that bark. It wasn’t his “stranger nearby” bark or his “play” bark—it was his alert. Something was wrong.

“It’s okay, honey,” Janet said, her voice even softer now. “You can tell me what’s wrong. Max and I are here to help you.”