What could matter so much to a starving dog that it would spend eleven hours tearing at the earth? Watching the frenzy of its paws, Ethan felt he was witnessing something more than instinct—something closer to obsession. And for the first time, he wondered if he wanted to know the answer.
The sound of claws scraping dirt carried into Ethan’s dreams that night, and the next morning he returned almost without thinking. The dog was there again, the hole deeper now, earth piled high around it like a miniature grave. Ethan crouched close, pulse quickening. He had to see.