Chapter 2

The darkness in the kennel was thick and absolute, broken only by the thin slivers of moonlight filtering through a grimy, high window. But it wasn't the dark that terrified Ava; it was the sounds that filled it. Growls rumbled through the concrete floor, a constant, low-frequency threat. Sharp, frantic barks echoed off the walls, each one a jolt to her frayed nerves.

She huddled in the corner, pressing herself against the cold, damp wall, trying to make herself as small as possible. Her body trembled, a violent, uncontrollable shaking that started in her core and radiated out to her fingertips. Every shadow seemed to move, morphing into the shape of a snarling beast. Her childhood trauma played on a loop in her mind: the weight of the dog on her small body, the hot breath on her face, the searing pain in her arm.

A particularly vicious bark erupted from the cage directly next to hers. A massive dog, a pit bull mix with scarred fur and wild eyes, threw itself against the chain-link fence separating their enclosures. The metal rattled violently. Saliva dripped from its bared teeth. Ava screamed, scrambling backward until she hit the opposite wall. Her hand scraped against the rough concrete, tearing the skin. Pain flared, sharp and hot, but it was nothing compared to the terror that had her in its grip.

She stayed like that for hours, frozen in a state of high alert. Her throat was raw from a combination of screaming and thirst. The dirty water bowl in the corner remained untouched. She couldn't bring herself to move, convinced that any motion would provoke the animal next to her.

As dawn approached, a faint grey light seeped into the kennel, revealing the filth and decay she was trapped in. And it revealed something else. Her eyes, now accustomed to the dimness, fixed on the cage next to hers. The latch on the gate wasn't fully secured. It was hanging loose, held only by a single, precarious notch. It wasn't just negligence. It was deliberate. Liam' s words echoed in her head: "Make sure the aggressive ones are in the cages next to her." This was part of the plan. They hadn't just left her here to be scared; they had left her here to be hurt.

A surge of adrenaline, born of pure survival instinct, cut through her fear. She had to get out. She had to get help. She scanned the small enclosure, her eyes darting around for anything she could use. Her gaze fell on a small, janitorial closet that had been left slightly ajar in the corner of her kennel. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe they had overlooked it.

With her heart hammering, she crawled toward it. The pit bull next door noticed the movement and began to bark ferociously, its body slamming against the weak latch. Ava flinched but forced herself to keep going. She pulled the closet door open. Inside, amidst brooms and buckets, was a beat-up, old mobile phone plugged into a charger. It was a burner phone, cheap and untraceable, likely belonging to the shady shelter manager. A lifeline.

Her fingers, clumsy with fear and cold, fumbled to unplug it. The battery was at 87%. She didn't have the shelter manager's number, or the police. The only numbers she knew by heart were the Millers'. Her first instinct, despite everything, was to call Liam. Maybe the night had softened him. Maybe he would realize how insane this was.

She dialed his number. It rang once, twice.

"What?" Liam' s voice was groggy and annoyed, as if she had woken him from a deep sleep.

"Liam, it' s me," Ava whispered, her voice hoarse. "You have to come get me. Please. The dog in the cage next to me... the latch is broken. It' s going to get out."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. She could hear him shifting in bed. "Stop being so dramatic, Ava. You' re not getting out of this that easily. I told you, you need to reflect."

"I' m not being dramatic!" she cried, her voice cracking. "I am telling you, this is dangerous. You put me in a kennel with an aggressive dog and a broken lock!"

"Oh, please," he scoffed. "You' re just trying to manipulate me. That' s what you do, isn' t it? You manipulate situations to get what you want. Like you manipulated your way to a perfect SAT score to make Chloe feel bad."

His denial was so complete, so detached from her reality, that it made her feel like she was going insane. Then, she heard another voice in the background, soft and sweet. Chloe' s voice.

"Who is it, Liam?"

"It' s Ava," he said with an exasperated sigh. "She' s trying to weasel her way out of her punishment."

There was a rustling sound, and then Chloe' s voice was on the phone, dripping with a sickening, false concern.

"Ava? Oh, honey, are you okay? Liam is just worried about you. We both are. We just want you to see how much you' ve hurt everyone."

"Chloe, listen to me," Ava begged, desperation clawing at her throat. "You have to make him understand. There' s a dog here, and it' s going to attack me."

"Oh, a doggie?" Chloe' s voice was light, almost playful. Ava could hear a faint rustling sound in the background. "You know, while you' re thinking about your mistakes, I was just cleaning up your room a little. I found that old picture frame on your desk. The one with the photo of you and your old teacher, Mr. Harrison."

Ava' s blood ran cold. That photo was her most prized possession. Mr. Harrison was the one who had seen her potential, who had encouraged her to dream bigger than the foster system. He had died last year, and that photo was all she had left of him.

"Chloe, don' t," Ava whispered.

"He looked like such a nice man," Chloe continued, her voice taking on a cruel edge. "It' s a shame this glass is so... fragile."

A sharp cracking sound echoed through the phone. It was unmistakable. The sound of glass shattering.

"Oops," Chloe said, her voice a caricature of innocence. "It slipped. The photo is all torn now, too. What a mess."

A sob escaped Ava' s lips, a raw, guttural sound of pure anguish. It wasn' t just a photo. It was her hope. It was her past. And Chloe had destroyed it with casual, calculated cruelty.

"You see, Ava?" Liam' s voice was back on the line, cold and final. "Actions have consequences. Stay there. Don' t call again. We' re going on vacation to celebrate Chloe' s amazing SAT score. We' ll be back in a week. Maybe by then, you' ll have learned your lesson."

The line went dead.

At that exact moment, the pit bull in the next cage gave one final, powerful shove. The latch gave way with a sickening metallic clang. The gate swung open.

The dog was free. It stood in the opening, its head low, a deep growl rumbling in its chest. Its eyes were locked on Ava.

She was still clutching the dead phone, the sound of Liam' s voice and the shattering glass echoing in her ears. She looked at the dog, then at the flimsy closet door. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

The dog lunged.