Dana corrected him.
“People are looking now.”
“They don’t know him.”
“You saw him for one minute.”
“He saw me when I was gone.”
Dana could not answer that.
Noah was discharged after nineteen days.
He returned to the lake once with a therapist and his parents. The visit was brief. He remained far from the water and held Marcus’s hand.
Near the grass where CPR had occurred, Noah found one dark hair caught in the bark of a tree root.
It might not have belonged to the dog.
He placed it inside a folded tissue anyway.
Three days later, the family received the photograph from the wastetransfer lot.
The image had been taken by sanitation worker Curtis Bell during an illegaldumping inspection. In the distant background stood a tan dog beside a broken green sofa.
One folded ear.
White chest.
Crescent scar.
Left paw lifted.
Noah recognized him before any adult finished enlarging the image.
