I barely say a word to Beth on Saturday morning. She tries to talk to me over breakfast, but I can’t bring myself to do anything besides shrug or nod. Eventually, she gives up, and after I feed Lila, the three of us climb into my sister’s car and head to the rescue.

Vanessa is waiting for us outside, by the front door. She smiles and gives Beth a kiss on the cheek before saying, “Michelle’s already here. We were just chatting by the dog run around back.”

“And?” Beth asks. I can tell she’s nervous. But hopeful, too. It makes me feel sick to my stomach.

“And she seems really sweet,” Vanessa says. “She’s excited to see Lila. I did warn her, of course, that there’s a chance she’s mistaken and this isn’t her dog. And even if it is, that Lila’s not the most outgoing. She might not remember her or be excited to see her. She says she understands all that, though.”

“Good,” Beth says.

Vanessa turns to me. “How are you, Hadley?”

I shrug and look away.

My sister clears her throat. “Vanessa, we should probably just …”

“Ah. Right. Well, follow me, then. She’s waiting for us around back.”

My right hand clenches around the handle of my cane and my left grips Lila’s leash real tight as we follow Vanessa around the side of the building. Behind the dog rescue, there’s a huge fenced-in area. Kinda like the dog park near Beth’s house, but a whole lot bigger. My guess is that they bring some of the dogs out here to play and get exercise, but right now it looks and sounds pretty empty. Vanessa opens the gate and gestures us inside.

That’s when I hear her voice. A woman’s voice, soft and nervous, calling out, “Lila?”

Lila sees her before I do. I know because her tail starts wagging and she starts pulling on the leash, harder than she has in ages. So hard that I can’t keep hold, and she’s tugged herself free of my grip before I can even see who she’s running toward.

I see the woman right as Lila barrels into her outstretched arms.

She’s got pasty white skin and bright orange-red hair that falls around her shoulders in wild, big curls. Even though she’s crouched down, I can tell she ain’t real tall. Maybe my height. She’s too far for me to make out much else. Not that I need to. I can see the important part.

Lila is jumping all over her, tail wagging, paws flying everywhere. She’s yipping and whimpering and just … acting like I’ve never seen Lila act before. I stand there, staring, without a single word to say.

After a minute, Lila breaks away from the redheaded woman—Michelle, I’m guessing—and runs over to me, leash still dragging behind her. She hops up, paws tapping my chest for just a second, before she lands on the ground again and takes off toward Michelle once more. Like she’s saying, “Hadley! Did you see? Look who’s here!”

When she runs back into Michelle’s arms, I can hear the young woman saying, “Lila … Lila, I missed you. Good girl. Good, sweet girl,” in a broken and croaky voice. She’s crying.

And she ain’t the only one.

“I guess she does remember you,” Beth says. When I look over at her, she’s wiping her eyes and Vanessa’s arm is around her.

“I think she does,” Michelle says. She stands up, but it takes some effort with Lila doing her best to climb into her lap. Even once she’s standing, the dog keeps running around her legs, jumping and whining. Like she’s happy-crying the way Michelle and Beth are.

I ain’t crying, though. I don’t feel happy, either. I feel hollow.

“I’m Michelle,” the young woman says as she stumbles toward us, tripped by Lila and her dragging leash. “Sorry. I should’ve introduced myself. I just got a little distracted.”

“No, no. That’s understandable,” my sister replies. “I’m Beth. I do some work training the dogs here. And this is my baby sister, Hadley. We’ve been—”

“You’re the ones who’ve been fostering Lila, right? Vanessa told me. It’s real nice to meet y’all.” She turns to look at me, still wiping her eyes. “She, uh … Vanessa says you’re the one who’s really been takin’ good care of my girl. Thank you. It means a lot to know Lila was so well loved.”

“No thanks to you,” I mutter.

“Hadley!” Beth scolds.

“No, no,” Michelle says. “I get it. You probably wanna know how Lila ended up in a shelter.”

“I already know,” I say, and I ain’t trying to hide the bitterness in my voice. “You went to jail—because you did something bad—and you left her alone.”

“That’s not entirely wrong, no. But … Why don’t we sit down?”

“Michelle,” Beth says, “you don’t have to explain—”

“No. I do,” Michelle replies. “If I was in Hadley’s boat and someone just showed up claiming a dog I cared about was theirs, I’d want to know answers. Besides … it ain’t something I’m gonna bother lying about.” She turns back to me. “Come on. Let’s, um … Let’s go sit down over here to talk. There’s a bench in the shade.”

I almost tell her no. Tell her I don’t want her stupid answers. But when I look down, there’s Lila, still running around Michelle’s legs, still wagging her tail. She’s a completely different dog. A happier one. All because Michelle is here.

“Fine,” I say. “We can talk.”

Vanessa and Beth decide to stay at a distance while Michelle and I take our seats on the bench at the edge of the dog run. I keep my eyes on my feet the whole time, glad for my tunnel vision for once. I don’t wanna look at anyone right now.

“So, where do I start?” Michelle says.

I shrug.

“Well, I got Lila a few years back. I was living in an apartment, and the minute I found out they allowed pets, I went out and adopted a little pit bull puppy from a shelter. I guess they’d found Lila’s mama and her litter under the porch of an abandoned house? That’s what they told me, at least. Lila was only a couple months old. And she was this happy, adorable puppy. I fell in love with her immediately. And at first, things were all right. It was just the two of us.”

I try and imagine Lila like that—a happy, excitable little puppy. If you’d described her like that to me a few days ago, I would’ve been sure you were lying. But now, after the way I’ve seen her act today with Michelle, I can almost picture it. A tiny puppy running around with a toy—probably a tug rope—hanging out of her mouth, tripping over paws that are still too big for her body, staring at you with eyes that are still too big for her head, that’s not quite yet massive like it will be one day.

I wish I’d known her back then.

“But then … a year or so after that … things weren’t so good,” Michelle continues. “The company I was working for went bankrupt and had to close down, so I lost my job. And I was having trouble finding a new one. Then my landlord raised the rent on my apartment, so I couldn’t afford to live there anymore. I wasn’t on good terms with my grandparents at the time—they’re the ones who raised me—so I didn’t think I could ask them for help. Everything just sorta tumbled down at once. And, before I knew it, Lila and I were pretty much living out of my car.”

Lila has finally calmed down now. She flops onto the ground, stretching across both mine and Michelle’s feet. My narrow field of vision is focused right on her wagging tail.

“I kept trying to look for a job, but when you don’t got a real address, that’s hard. And it just … It wasn’t getting easier.” I can hear Michelle swallow, loud, before she goes on. “The reason I got arrested is because I got caught shoplifting. I was trying to steal some food for Lila and me. The manager called the police, and I was arrested. At the time, I didn’t have anyone I could call to come take her. So the police officer said they’d have to put her in a shelter.” Michelle sniffles. I figure she’s probably crying now. “I told them her name was Lila, and to make sure the people at the shelter knew it so when I got out, I’d be able to find her easier. But I had no idea how long that would be or if they’d even let me take her back.”

“So you went to jail for stealing,” I say. My voice is flat. Cold.

“Yeah,” Michelle answers. “Trying to, at least. It was wrong. I went about things the wrong way. But I … Lila was all I had at that point. I wanted to take care of her. I didn’t want either of us to go hungry.”

“But you sure weren’t taking care of her after you got arrested.”

“I know.”

“She was probably in that shelter feeling lonely. And scared. And missing you. And mad at you for messing up so bad you had to leave her.” I grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut tight. Because now I’m the one starting to cry.

“I’m sure she was,” Michelle says. “And believe me, if I had it to do over again, I would. I’d do it real different. I’d find some other way. But at the time, I was panicked and worried about taking care of the both of us. It was a stupid decision. But … But I’ve been working to make things better.”

“How?”

“Well, I wasn’t in jail very long, but while I was there, I did reach out to my grandparents. It wasn’t easy, but we started working on mending our fences. We’d had a falling out years before because of a guy I was dating that they didn’t like. Turns out they’d been right, but I was stubborn and so were they. But after everything fell apart, it made us all put things into perspective, I guess. So once I was released, I went to live with them. They helped me find a new job, and once I got a little more stable, they helped me find a new place to live. It’s taken some time and patience, but I’m in a good spot now. I’ve tried to learn from the mistakes I’ve made.”

“What about Lila?”

“I started looking for her the day I got out of jail,” Michelle tells me. “I contacted the police department to find out what shelter they’d taken her to. But by the time I got in touch with the shelter, she was already gone. And I had no way of knowing what other shelter or rescue she was in or if she’d been adopted by somebody else. All I could do was keep looking. I figured it was a long shot of ever finding her, but I couldn’t … I couldn’t just give up, you know?”

“How long have you been looking for her?” I ask.

“At least a year now,” Michelle says.

My eyes are still closed, but I feel two heavy paws press into the tops of my thighs and a warm wet tongue begin to lap at my cheeks. I open my eyes and find myself nose-to-nose with Lila. I reach up and scratch behind her ears.

“I’m okay,” I mumble to her. “Thank you, Lila.”

Lila licks the tip of my nose before pushing off my lap and going back over to Michelle. She sits right in front of her, looking up at her with big eyes that ain’t so sad anymore. Her mouth even hangs open a little, making it look like she’s smiling.

“She loves you,” I say to Michelle. “It’s real obvious.”

Michelle laughs as she reaches down to rub Lila’s head. “She’s a good girl. I love her, too.”

And, despite everything, I believe her.

She did something bad. She broke the law and that made her lose Lila. But … But it’s impossible to look at Michelle and not see how much she cares for this dog. Even when you’re nearly blind, like I am. And Lila clearly loves her, too. I think that’s why she was so sad for so long. She missed her person. And now that she’s found her again, I’d be a real jerk to keep them apart.

“Can I come visit her sometime?” My voice is barely above a whisper when I ask.

“Sure,” Michelle says. “Once she gets settled in with me I think Lila would like that.”

“You promise you’ll take good care of her, right? You’ll give her lots of carrots and play tug with her every day?”

Michelle smiles at me, then looks back down at Lila. She’s still rubbing her head. “I promise.”

It ain’t long after that that we leave the rescue. Lila whines about leaving Michelle, who gives her a big hug before Beth and I lead her away, but she only sulks for a little bit. By the time we get back to Beth’s house, she’s in a good mood again. A real good mood. She’s running up and down the hallway and trying to coax Beth and me into playing tug-of-war any time we stand still for too long. I think she knows somehow that this separation ain’t permanent. That we’ll take her back to Michelle soon enough.

That night before bed I walk over to the desk in my room. There’s a big stack of envelopes on it. All the letters Mama’s sent since I got here. There’s been at least one a week. Beth won’t let me throw them out, but I still ain’t opened a single one. Staring at the stack, I can’t help but remember another stack of envelopes. Bills piled up on the table. Mama’s tired sigh and the way she’d run her hands through her hair when she looked at them.

Mama’s sent so many letters and called every single day, even though I ain’t written back or talked to her on the phone. She ain’t giving up.

Just like Michelle didn’t give up on finding Lila.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I pick up the stack of letters and go to sit down on my bed. I call Lila to me and make her lie next to me while I do this. She rests her head in my lap, eyes staring up at me. Just a little bit of moral support.

And, after one long, shaky breath, I open the first envelope and stare down at my mama’s familiar, big-lettered handwriting.