“Two hours,” he said. “Then I don’t hear barking, crying or a scratch more in my flat.”
When the door closed, Miguel leaned his forehead against the forest and breathed as if he had been running.
Lupita didn’t comfort him.
He went back to the bracelet.
“We have to call the hospital,” he said.
Miguel turned.
“And say what? That a dog dragged his bracelet down the road with six puppies?
“Yes.
“They’ll think we’re crazy.”
“Maybe,” said Lupita. “But maybe someone is looking for Sofia Herrera.”
Cinnamon growled again by the name, softer this time, as if it hurt instead of annoying it.
Miguel crouched nearby of the dog, keeping his hands visible.
“Who was she for you, child?” He asked me.
Cinnamon did not move.
But one of the puppies blindly pushed into his belly, and bowed to clean it with desperate tenderness.
Lupita called the hospital with the number of the bracelet, her voice educated at first, then firmer while she repeated herself.
