The breath I'd been holding rushed out of me. "Thank you," I whispered, my voice raw.

Then something occurred to me. "Is Dr. Pruitt here? At this hospital?"

"Dr. Pruitt?" The nurse smiled. "Frederick Pruitt?"

I nodded.

"He took time off. Word is his girlfriend's pregnant, and he went home to get things ready for the wedding." She let out a wistful sigh. "Years and years, nobody even knew he had a girlfriend. Then out of nowhere we hear she's pregnant and he's planning a wedding. Broke a lot of hearts around here, let me tell you."

I smiled and rested my hand against my belly.

"Make sure you take it easy after discharge," the nurse said, her tone turning serious. "Rest. No more accidents." She gave me a firm look, then turned and walked out.

I pushed the covers aside and got out of bed to handle the paperwork.

It had been days since I'd seen Mochi.

I decided to go pick him up. The divorce would be finalized soon anyway.

But when I got to the pet groomer's, they told me he'd already been collected.

"About half an hour ago. Your husband came for him. You two brought the dog in together before, so when he showed up, I handed him over. Didn't think twice about it."

I thanked them and walked out. My expression had gone cold.

Still, I opened my messages and typed:

Is Mochi with you? I'm coming to get him.

The reply came instantly:

Come over. I'm at our house.

Mochi's bed, his food, his toys were all still at the house.

I could grab everything in one trip.

I hailed a cab and headed straight there.

The front door of the villa stood wide open.

But the moment I stepped inside, I froze.

Mochi's bed was destroyed. Torn apart.

Scraps of blood-matted fur and splintered bone lay scattered across the floor. The blood had pooled and half-dried, catching the morning light in a sickening shade of red.

A small brown head had rolled to one side. His eyes were still open, staring up at the gray sky. Seeing nothing.

I stood there. I couldn't move. I couldn't think.

Time stopped. The only thing that existed was the thick, coppery reek of blood forcing its way into my lungs.

Then a piece of brown fur sailed through the air like a discarded rag, landing at my feet.

A sweet, girlish voice drifted out from inside.

"Stupid mutt. Skinning it was harder than I thought."

Yolanda stepped out, her hands slick with blood. She waved them in front of me, casual, almost playful.

My eyes flooded red.

"You killed Mochi?"