Gabby hesitated, torn, but when she peered into the car and saw it packed to the roof with luggage, blankets, and now the toy hamper, her protest softened. “Alright,” she said, voice tight. Josh lifted Juniper into the front seat. Juno whimpered. Then the car pulled away—and both dogs cried.
Gabby watched the car disappear around the corner, her arms hanging uselessly at her sides. A strange weight pressed on her chest. Juno had never been without Juniper. Not for an hour. Not for a minute. And now he stood frozen, ears perked, gaze fixed on the empty gate.