The officer’s tone softened. “Was she yours?” Pedro nodded, unable to speak. “Yes,” he whispered after a beat. “She was my Lola.” The officer hesitated, brow furrowing slightly. “Strange. The tag on her collar said Rusty. Are you sure it was your dog?” Pedro’s breath caught mid-sob, a flicker of hope igniting.
He wiped his eyes, heart pounding now for a different reason. “Rusty?” he repeated. “Could you show me a picture?” The officer nodded, turning to a file drawer behind the desk. “Yeah, we took a few for the record. Hold on.” Pedro held his breath as the man searched.