The next morning, the world outside was buried.
Snow had swallowed the road, the cars, even the flickering motel sign. Everything was quiet in that eerie, post-storm way—like the world had been reset overnight.
Inside that cheap room, though, something had shifted permanently.
Atticus was the first to wake up. He nudged my hand with his nose, his tail giving a slow, cautious wag. When he tried to stand, he struggled—but this time, he didn’t collapse. Sarah was up instantly, supporting his hips like she always did.
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