Noah reached for me.
“Daddy—”
“I’ve got you,” I said. “I’ve got you, buddy.”
He was shaking. His wrists were red. His bare foot was filthy. He pressed himself against me, and I felt every tremor run through his small body.
I could smell urine and dry kibble.
I could see the marks on his arms.
“He needed to understand where he belongs,” Vanessa said behind me.
I turned my head slowly.
“What did you just say?”
She crossed her arms again, but her voice was not as steady as before.
“He’s been difficult. I was teaching him.”
Noah buried his face against my shoulder.
“She said I was bad. She said bad boys eat from the bowl.”
My blood went cold.
I looked back into the cage.
That was when I saw it.
Lying beside Noah’s missing shoe was something small.
Something that should never have been there.
