Chapter 37 Lost signal
Hannah
Just as I took another careful step forward, the puppy startled.
It lurched upright on trembling legs, let out a sharp, panicked yip, and bolted.
“Wait, no, please,” I whispered urgently, then louder, “Hey! It’s okay, I won’t hurt you!”
My heart slammed painfully against my ribs as I broke into a jog, the night tilting around me. The puppy disappeared behind a stack of crates, then reappeared farther down the alley, limping badly but running on pure terror.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I called again, my voice wobbling. “I promise. Please.”
The alley twisted, opening into another narrow street, then narrowing again. I lost sight of the puppy more than once, panic rising each time it vanished, only to crash back into relief when I heard its pained yips echoing faintly ahead.
My heels clicked uselessly against the pavement. My head throbbed from wine and adrenaline. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a rational voice screamed that this was stupid, that I should turn back, find my guards, let someone else handle this.
But every time the puppy cried out, that voice went quiet.
“I’m coming,” I breathed, half to myself, half to the small body ahead of me. “Please don’t be scared.”
Time stretched into something unreal. Minutes felt like hours. The city blurred into shadow and brick and flickering lights. Finally, the puppy slowed, its energy spent, and ducked behind a trash can at the mouth of another alley.
I stopped several feet away, breath ragged, hands shaking.
“There you are,” I murmured softly.
I crouched low, making myself small. The puppy stayed hidden, only the tip of its nose visible, eyes reflecting faintly in the dark.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “See? I stopped. I won’t come closer.”
I reached into the crumpled paper still clutched in my hand and broke off a piece of my half-eaten burger. The smell of grease and meat filled the air.
“Food,” I coaxed gently, placing it on the ground between us and sliding it closer with two fingers. “Just food.”
The puppy didn’t move.
So I sat.
Right there on the cold concrete, back against the brick wall, knees pulled to my chest. I set the rest of the burger beside me and waited. When the silence grew too heavy, I started humming; a soft random tune, the kind of melody you don’t realize you know until it falls out of you.
It was an old song my mother used to sing when I was small. Before everything fractured between us.
Minutes passed. Then more.
Finally, the puppy’s nose edged forward. It sniffed the air, then the food. Another second, and it crept out just enough to snatch the burger piece, retreating immediately to chew.
My chest ached.
“There you go,” I murmured, smiling despite the sting in my eyes. “Good job.”
Bit by bit, it came closer. I slid another piece toward it. Then another. Its body was painfully thin beneath my gaze, ribs visible, fur dirty and matted. One back leg was scraped raw, angry red against white fur.
“Oh, sweetheart,” I whispered.
When it finished eating, it didn’t retreat this time. It just stood there, breathing fast, looking at me like it couldn’t quite believe I was real.
“Do you belong to someone?” I asked softly, scanning the dark alley. “Did you get lost?”
No answer. Of course.
My heart squeezed tight. Carefully, slowly, I reached out.
The puppy flinched but didn’t run.
I scooped it up gently, cradling its small body against my chest. It trembled violently, then sagged into me with a tired whine, its head tucking under my chin.
“It’s okay,” I whispered fiercely, holding it closer. “I’ve got you.”
That was when reality snapped back into place.
I looked around.
The alley stretched in both directions, unfamiliar. The burger shop was nowhere in sight. No neon sign. No guards. Just brick, shadows, and distant city noise.
My stomach dropped.
“Hello?” I called, my voice suddenly thin. “Is anyone there?”
Nothing.
I turned slowly, spinning in a small circle, panic blooming hot and fast. I tried to retrace my steps, walking back the way I thought I’d come but every turn looked the same. Every corner mocked me with sameness.
“Hello?” I called again, louder now. “I…I’m lost.”
My breath came quicker. The puppy squirmed weakly in my arms, sensing my fear.
“It’s okay,” I told it, though my voice shook. “We’ll figure it out. We will.”
I walked, clutching the small warm body to my chest, heart hammering. After several blocks, I stumbled into a wider street and froze.
A group of men stood near the corner, smoking, laughter loud and ugly. Their eyes flicked to me instantly.
“Well, look what wandered out,” one of them drawled.
Another whistled. “Damn, sweetheart. Lost?”
I backed up instinctively, pulse roaring in my ears.
“Sorry,” I muttered, taking a step away. “Wrong way.”
“Hey, don’t be like that,” one called, already moving. “We’re just being friendly.”
“Look at how dressed up she is, eh?” One snickered and licked his lips leeringly.
Fear hit me full force.
I turned and ran.
“Hey!” they shouted, laughter turning sharp. Footsteps pounded behind me.
I ran harder than I ever had, lungs burning, arms aching as I clutched the puppy close. My dress snagged once, nearly sending me sprawling, but adrenaline shoved me forward.
“Come back!” someone yelled. “We just wanna talk!”
I didn’t look back.
Somehow, through sheer terror and instinct, I managed to lose them. I ducked through a gate, cut across a lot, stumbled down a flight of stairs, and burst into a brightly lit space…
A train station.
I slowed, breath tearing from my chest, hands shaking violently now. People moved around me, unaware, indifferent. I leaned against a pillar, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor, the puppy pressed tight against my heart.
“It’s okay,” I whispered over and over. “We’re okay. We’re safe.”
I fumbled for my phone, patting myself and realised it wasn’t on me. Of course. I was wearing a pocketless dress.
I spotted a ticket machine, hands clumsy as I fed in the last of the cash I had on me. The puppy whimpered softly, and I stroked its head absently, murmuring platitudes.
A train roared into the station. Doors slid open.
I boarded without thinking too hard, choosing an empty seat and curling around the puppy protectively. The motion of the train soothed me despite myself. The rhythm. The warmth.
My eyelids grew heavy.
I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, a loud announcement jolted me awake.
“…final stop.”
Panic snapped me upright.
I stumbled off the train into a quiet, unfamiliar station. The air felt different here. Colder. Quieter. Wrong.
I walked out onto the street, turning in a slow circle, dread pooling in my stomach. Nothing looked familiar. No towering buildings. No landmarks I recognized.
A woman walked past, and desperation surged.
“Excuse me,” I called. “I’m sorry, can you tell me where this is?”
She looked me up and down, eyes lingering on the puppy in my arms, my rumpled dress, my wild hair. She had a wary look in her eyes.
“Pennsylvania,” she said flatly, then quickly hurried on.
The word hit me like a physical blow.
Pennsylvania.
My heart dropped into my shoes.
I stood there, frozen, clutching a wounded puppy in my arms, the night stretching endlessly around me, lost, far from home, with no idea how to get back.