They walked together, Max never leaving the boy’s side. He stayed close enough for the boy’s fingers to brush against his fur—a small tether of comfort as they made their way through the terminal and out to the street.

The boy’s home wasn’t far—a short walk through a quiet neighborhood lined with maple trees. Janet’s mind raced through possibilities, but she kept her voice steady for the child’s sake.

When they reached the small, single-story house, Janet tried the door. It was unlocked.

“Stay here with Max,” she instructed gently, but the boy clung to her sleeve.