Gabby exhaled shakily, pressing her hand to her face. The midday sun felt hot on her skin, but inside she was still cold. Still vibrating. Still processing. It was over. The nightmare—the helplessness—the ache of not knowing. It was finally over. Juniper was safe. And Josh was gone.
An officer approached and crouched beside her. “We’ll transport the other dogs to the district’s rescue shelter,” he said. “They’ll get treatment, care, and proper fosters. You did the right thing.” Gabby nodded, grateful but quiet. She rose, lifted Juniper into her arms, and drove back to Angel Paws as the sun blazed overhead.
By the time Gabby pulled into the Angel Paws parking lot, the sun was low on the horizon, casting a golden glow across the shelter’s gravel lot. In the backseat, Juniper was wide awake now. The sedative had worn off, and in its place was pure, frantic joy—he licked her cheek, her arm, her hands, whining with emotion.
Gabby opened the car door and Juniper leapt out, legs shaky but determined. His nose immediately hit the ground, sniffing madly, zigzagging through the grass until he froze—he’d caught a familiar scent. He let out a desperate bark, then another, then sprinted toward the playpen, every muscle pulled taut with urgency.
Inside the shelter, Juno stirred. Then he bolted. Gabby rushed to open the gate just as Juniper flung himself forward. The moment their eyes met, the barking stopped—and then erupted into chaos. Paws flew, bodies collided, tails thumped wildly. The two brothers crashed into each other with the kind of force only grief and love could create.
Gabby stood frozen, tears falling hard and fast. All around her, the shelter had gone quiet. Staff members wiped their eyes. Someone clutched their chest. The boys yelped, rolled, nuzzled, unable to stop touching, pressing, licking—as if making sure the other was real. Gabby finally let out a sob, her whole body trembling from the weight of relief.
A hand rested gently on her back—it was the shelter’s owner. “You brought him back,” he said softly, eyes wet. “You didn’t give up on them.” News of Josh’s arrest had spread fast: multiple charges of identity fraud, animal cruelty, and illegal dog trafficking. Meanwhile, Gabby’s bravery earned her the title of Employee of the Year. But titles meant nothing at that moment.
Later, as the sky deepened to violet, Gabby sat barefoot in the grass, knees pulled to her chest, watching her boys. Juno chased Juniper in wide circles, barking with uncontained joy. Juniper clumsily carried a squeaky toy twice his size. Gabby gazed at the two lovingly and smiled – her world was whole again.