By mid-morning, worry wrapped itself tightly around his chest. Bad thoughts, the kind he tried hard to push away, kept creeping in—What if she was hurt? What if she was gone? His hands moved on autopilot at the shop, but his mind was far away, spinning scenarios he couldn’t bear.
His phone buzzed constantly, but none of the messages brought relief. Students, friends, and even a couple of professors sent comforting notes: “She’ll turn up,” “Dogs are resilient,” “Don’t give up.” Pedro appreciated the kindness, but none of it eased the ache of not knowing. At eleven, he looked down the road again. Nothing.