Marcus closed the laptop. He looked out the window at Titan—pacing still, but slower now, the jagged circles of over two years beginning incrementally to widen. The dog didn’t know his food bowl had been weaponised. He just knew something had stopped hurting. That was enough for the dog.
“Someone was here yesterday with a folder of articles trying to discredit you,” Marcus said. Wren absorbed this. “Because the bowl change worked,” she said. “Titan’s baseline anxiety has been dropping since the frequency stopped. They would have noticed. Which means someone has been monitoring the dog.” She paused.