The echoes of Thor’s anguished fury still reverberated through the hallways when a shrill alarm suddenly blared overhead, cutting through every sound like a knife. Red emergency lights flashed against the concrete walls, bathing the corridor in frantic pulses of color.
Karen spun around. «What now?»
A handler shouted from down the hall. «Smoke in wing C! We’ve got a fire! Everyone evacuate immediately!»
Chaos erupted. Handlers bolted toward emergency stations, fire doors slammed shut, and staff raced to guide animals out of harm’s way. The smell of smoke drifted in—sharp, choking, and unmistakable.
Karen grabbed Ethan’s arm, her voice urgent. «We have to go. Now.»
But Ethan didn’t move. «Thor. He’s in a fire zone.»
«The doors are locked,» one handler yelled, coughing as smoke seeped into the corridor. «We can’t reach him!»
At the mention of Thor’s name, Ethan’s heart plunged. He pictured the dog, alone, terrified, abandoned again. The thought twisted something deep inside him, something too familiar.
Karen tried pulling Ethan again. «Come on, we’ll get him once the fire team arrives.»
«Once they arrive?» Ethan snapped. «He doesn’t have time!»
Another explosion rattled the building as fire burst through a ventilation duct. Flames licked up the metal frame, the heat pulsing outward.
«Move!» Halvorsen barked, ushering staff toward the exit. «Evacuate. Now.»
But Ethan planted his cane firmly on the floor. «I’m not leaving him.»
Karen’s voice trembled. «Ethan, you can’t see. You’ll get lost in the smoke.»
He shook his head. «Thor will find me.»
Before Karen could protest, Ethan turned away from the exit and ran toward the thickening smoke. Staff lunged to stop him, but he slipped past with surprising speed, guided only by memory and instinct.
Karen shouted out. «Ethan, stop!»
He didn’t. Deeper in the building, beyond the fire doors, Thor was losing control. Smoke filled his kennel and he rammed the cage with panicked force, barking desperately. His claws scraped helplessly against the steel. No one was coming. Not again. Not this time.