Miguel immediately thought of his truck.
The unpaid fine.
The expired inspection sticker he had promised to fix after the next delivery.
The hours I would lose, the questions, the suspicion, the way people like him were rarely believed first.
Then he looked at Cinnamon’s legs.
He hated himself for thinking about the truck.
“They can take the dog,” he said.
“They can help her.”
“They can take the puppies too.”
“You can find Sofia.”
“What if Sofia left that bracelet because she didn’t want anyone to find her?”
Lupita then looked at him, hurt by the possibility and by the fact that he had said it out loud.
The pale puppy made a small sound, almost a complaint, and Lupita lowered her eyes again.
She knew, as Miguel knew, that people left things behind for many reasons.
Some of them fled the danger.
Some caused it.
Some were simply too tired to keep carrying every part of their life.
