Marcus sat down on the grass beside them. Titan opened one eye, regarded him with the dark unhurried certainty of an animal who has made a decision and is no longer reviewing it, then closed it again. The dog exhaled long, slow, entirely at rest.
He had lost years, many millions of dollars, and every assumption he had held about his wife and his closest friend. What remained was this: a garden in the afternoon, a dog finally sleeping without fear, and the quiet, sober knowledge that the most dangerous thing in his house had never been the animal.