The wall clock read twelve-fifty-three. My lunch break was over. Time to clock back in at my desk at the Coastal Community Mental Health Clinic. I worked as an admin for scraps but felt oddly at home among other broken souls. Cynthia was only a few blocks away at her own clinic, and our offices often traded referrals. That was how I’d first heard of her. Long before I’d ever become her client.
“I’ll call my mom soon,” I said as we headed for the door.
Her nod was patient. “Emily, don’t rush it. When you’re ready, you’ll call.”
A quick smile, and I slipped into the hallway.
“You coming to the Running for Mental Health Awareness 5K tomorrow?” I asked.
Cynthia laughed. “Oh, no. You know how bad the pay is in community mental health. It’s practically volunteering. My weekends are for true-crime shows and my cats.”
I grinned. “Two things in life don’t pay well,” I said. “Helping people is one of them.”
“And the other?”
“Having a heart.”
Cynthia laughed. “Both of them will pay us in the afterlife.”
“They’d better. See you next week!”
Chapter 2
The cold morning air swept through the crack in my car window as I drove toward Boston Common. It was early, but the city was already buzzing with Saturday morning traffic.
I wore a long-sleeved shirt dress. It was supposed to hit the high sixties later. Typical New England spring. Chilly now, warmish later. If we were lucky.
My mind drifted as I turned down Tremont. I thought back to my session with Cynthia yesterday. The screaming. The blood. That moment when my eyes had snapped open in panic.
Suddenly, the car in front of me slammed to a stop.
Instinct kicked in. My foot hit the brakes hard, and I jolted forward. So did the car behind me, close enough to make my heart leap.
“What the hell?”
I leaned forward, peering out the windshield. Two vehicles ahead, something moved on the road, then darted between cars. Massive shapes.
Dogs!
Two enormous mastiffs, panicked and aimless, ran loose in the middle of the street. Easily over two hundred pounds each, they darted between stopped cars and stunned pedestrians on the sidewalk. The entire street froze in both directions. Nobody moved. People just watched as the two beasts weaved between bumpers, panting, wild-eyed, and afraid. They were trapped. Every direction was a dead end, blocked by cars, a wall of people, even a cyclist awkwardly trying to backpedal.
And no one helped.
Because who the hell wanted to get near two dogs the size of lions?
Then the honking started. Loud, angry, relentless. A car lurched forward, trying to scare them off the road. One of the mastiffs jolted in panic, and the bumper missed it by barely an inch.
That was it.
I threw my car into park and flung the door open. My boots slapped the pavement as I sprinted toward them. I slowed as I got closer, hands up, voice soft.
“Hey there, sweet boys. It’s okay.”
The dogs pulled back.They didn’t trust me. Why would they? They were terrified. I was scared too. I’d never been so close to dogs this massive.
One of them froze, his chest heaving, his mouth wide as he panted in exhausted panic. That was my chance.
I crouched slightly and stepped in.
