Chapter 1: The Empty Doorway
I knew something was wrong the second I walked into our house in Columbus and didn’t hear Max running toward the door.
For thirteen years, that sound had been the same.
The scrape of his paws against the hardwood floor. The excited whine. The heavy thump of his tail hitting the wall before he even reached me.
But that afternoon, after three days away at college orientation, the house was silent.
“Max?”” I called, dropping my duffel bag beside the stairs.
Nothing.
I smiled at first because I thought he was hiding.
Max loved pretending he didn’t hear people calling him. Dad used to joke that he wasn’t a dog—he was a retired old man trapped in a golden retriever’s body.
“Come on, buddy,” I called again.
“I know you’re in here.””
Still nothing.
Then I noticed my mother standing in the kitchen doorway.
She wasn’t smiling.
She wasn’t asking how orientation went.
She was just watching me with her arms crossed.
My stomach tightened.
“Where is he?””
My mom looked away.
That was when I knew.
“Mom,” I said slowly.
“Where is Max?””
She exhaled like I was already making her day harder.
“Before you get upset, I need you to act like an adult.””
The words hit me harder than I expected.
“Why would I get upset?””
She didn’t answer.
I stepped closer.
“Mom. Where is Max?””
She folded a towel on the counter even though it was already folded.
“I gave him to Kevin’s kids.””
For a second, I honestly thought I had misunderstood.
“What?””
“Kevin’s boys have been asking for a dog for months.””
I stared at her.
“You gave away Max?””
Her expression changed slightly, like she was annoyed that I was making this a bigger deal than it needed to be.
“He’s been with them since Monday.””
“Monday?””
My voice cracked.
“You gave him away while I was gone?””
“You were at orientation.””
“That’s the point!””
She frowned.
“Emily, don’t start yelling.””
“I’m not yelling. I’m asking why you gave away Dad’s dog without telling me.””
Her face hardened.
“He’s not your father’s dog anymore.””
I felt like the room had tilted.
“What does that even mean?””
She sighed.
“Your father has been gone three years.””
I looked at her.
Three years.
She said it like that erased everything.
Like three years was enough time to throw away every piece of him that still existed.
Max wasn’t just a dog.
He was the last thing Dad had chosen.
Dad had adopted him from a rescue outside Cleveland when Max was barely a year old. I still remembered Dad bringing him home in the backseat of his truck, covered in mud and shaking from fear.
“He needs someone who won’t give up on him,” Dad had told me.
And Max never gave up on us.
After Dad died unexpectedly, Max changed.
He stopped sleeping in the living room.
He stopped waiting by the front window.
Every night for months, he slept outside my bedroom door.
Like he was guarding me because Dad wasn’t there anymore.
“You gave him away,” I whispered.
My mom rolled her eyes.
“Emily.””
“No. You gave away the one thing Dad left behind.””
“Watch your tone.””
I grabbed my phone.
“Give me Kevin’s address.””
“No.””
I looked up.
“What?””
“Kevin already took him home.””
“I need his address.””
“He doesn’t want you showing up and confusing the kids.””
I laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“Confusing the kids?””
“Yes. They’re already attached.””
I stared at her.
“They’ve had him for two days.””
“Exactly. Imagine how cruel it would be to rip him away now.””
My hands started shaking.
“So it wasn’t cruel when you ripped him away from me?””
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Then she said the sentence I would remember for the rest of my life.
“You’re nineteen, Emily. You’re too old to be this upset over a dog.””
I felt my chest tighten.
I whispered, “He wasn’t just a dog.””
She looked at me like she didn’t understand.
“He was Dad’s.””
My mother’s expression softened for half a second.
Then it disappeared.
“Your father isn’t coming back.””
I walked upstairs before I said something I couldn’t take back.
But when I opened my bedroom door, I stopped.
The room felt wrong.
Too quiet.
Max’s bed was gone.
His blanket was gone.
The old stuffed rabbit he carried everywhere was gone.
I rushed to the corner where Dad’s old leather leash hung from a hook.
Empty.
I ran downstairs.
“Where is his stuff?””
My mom looked up.
“What?””
“His leash. His toys. His tag.””
Silence.
“Mom.””
She looked uncomfortable.
“Kevin took everything.””
My heart dropped.
“Everything?””
“The boys wanted his things.””
I stared at her.
“Dad’s tag was on his collar.””
She looked away.
That tiny movement told me everything.
“You let them take it?””
“It’s just a tag.””
I couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth.
“It had Dad’s handwriting.””
She didn’t respond.
I grabbed my keys.
“Where are you going?””
“To get him back.””
My mom stepped in front of the door.
“Emily.””
“Move.””
“You need to calm down.””
“No.””
My voice was shaking now.
“I need you to tell me where my dog is.””
She stared at me for a long moment.
Then her phone buzzed.
She glanced at the screen.
And the color drained from her face.
I saw the name before she turned it away.
Kevin.
“What did he say?”” I asked.
My mother didn’t answer.
And somehow, that scared me more than anything.
May you like
Because whatever was on that screen wasn’t about Max.
It was about something she hadn’t told me.
