The animal barely stirred, only nudging the toy closer with its nose before closing its eyes. Ethan studied the scene—this strange, dirt-covered guardian finally at rest—and felt a twinge of responsibility. Whatever had driven it to dig for eleven hours, its task seemed finished. His, however, was just beginning.
He turned the key in his hand, reading the faded tag again. An address scrawled in uneven ink: 25 Riverside Street. Ethan mouthed the words under his breath, trying to place it. He wasn’t familiar enough with the town’s layout to know exactly where it was, but he decided he would find out.