bouncy tent, balloons were held tight, bobbing in the air, and it was as if time had stopped, freezing them in a memory from the past.
But it wasn’t, because they weren’t kids any longer. As she darted in and out of the stalls, and Owen stood on the sideline watching, smiling at her, Chloe realized things weren’t the same. The man beside her still held the childlike wonder she always admired but it was now tempered with a maturity and confidence. He used to chase after her, as if trying to keep up to make her happy, but now it was as if he held his own presence, able to stay silent and watch. He’d grown into himself.
They’d begun to circle back when her gaze caught on a young woman with a boy sitting beside a sign that said Puppies for Sale. There was a crowd of kids leaning over and poking at a box. Owen’s hand tightened on hers as he led her over.
The worn box held a tiny black puppy. Soft whines emitted from its throat, and Chloe watched the furball try to escape the mass of frantic hands trying to grab a touch. She quickly diagnosed a problem with the puppy’s right front leg. It held an awkward gait as the pup tried to run back and forth in the box. “Only fifty bucks for a new puppy!” the young woman announced. “Would make a wonderful new friend.”
Parents called their kids back, leaving Owen and Chloe. “Is something wrong with him?” Chloe asked. “He’s walking funny.”
The woman waved a hand in the air and laughed. “Just hurt his paw a few minutes ago, but he’s fine. No issues. Runt of the litter so you get a discount. I normally charge a hundred.”
Immediately, Owen’s face closed up. “Did you manage to sell the others?” he asked tightly.
“Sure did. This male is the last one left, and I have to sell it today.”
Owen’s voice iced up. “Why? What will happen to him if you don’t?”
The young boy beside her turned a haunted gaze up to them. “Mama said we have to get rid of it either way,” he said. “Puppies are expensive.”
The young woman ignored the boy. “I’ll drop it off at a shelter,” she said curtly.
Chloe knew immediately she was lying. It was in her eyes, and the truth hit her full force. If the puppy didn’t sell, she’d dump him somewhere and leave the pup to fend for himself. With a lame leg, the pup wouldn’t have a chance. Chloe doubted anyone here would buy an obviously injured puppy for that type of money.
Once again, an animal was looked on as an object rather than a living creature who not only wanted to live, but to be loved. She’d seen it a thousand times before. Overbred dogs produced puppies. Puppies were sold for the profit, and whatever dog didn’t sell got dumped.
Rage overtook her, but she bit it back. The helplessness was the worst—knowing this woman would probably do it again, and never think twice about the repercussions of the murders trailed behind her.
Her thoughts whirled with ideas of how to handle the situation until Owen spoke.
“I’ll take him.”
The woman lit up. “Great! Let me just—oh, can you wait a moment? I have to take this call, Sam will help. We have change if you need it. Make sure you count the money,” she counseled the boy, turning away and hitting the button for the call.
Shocked, Chloe watched Owen kneel in front of the boy. The kid wore ripped shorts, an old Mets baseball jersey, and a dirty blue hat. His face was a bit gaunt, his dark eyes sad and solemn as he stared back. “Sam, my name is Owen. Do you have one dog that births all the puppies? Or many?”
“Just one. She’s old, though, and Mama said she may not be able to have any more litters. I wanted to keep one but I can’t. Mama said we need to sell them.”
“I understand. Does anyone ever hurt the puppies?”
The boy shook his head hard. “No, but this one was super little and jumped out and hurt his leg. Now he don’t walk good. But I’m glad you’re taking him 'cause I don’t want him to go into the woods like the other ones. I’m afraid he’d get cold.”
A sob trapped in her throat, Chloe kept still and listened. “Okay, listen to me, Sam, this is important. I’m going to give you my card. If