“Alexia, stop,” Anna interjected. “Talking about it will only make it worse, okay?” This wasn’t going at all how she wanted it to. “Can’t we just be friends? Friends who look for homeless people together?” Anna tried to keep her voice light and airy.

“Yes, of course,” Vronsky replied, not looking at her. He said the words because he had to, not because he believed them. Alexia Vronsky didn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t view Anna as a friend, and frankly he didn’t want her to see him that way, either.

Anna nodded, relieved to have done what she knew was right. She stepped forward and went down the escalator. She wasn’t sure whether he’d follow her, but she hoped he would.

Vronsky stepped onto the escalator two steps behind her, continuing their odyssey together.

Anna’s intuition was quickly confirmed. They found Johnson lying down on a bench at the far end of the platform. He looked to be in his forties, but his stringy hair and beard, both fully gray, gave him the appearance of someone much older.

“Johnson?” Anna asked. “We want to talk to you about Balboa.”

The man sat up so fast, Anna startled and stepped backward, while Vronsky stepped forward, putting his arm out to shield Anna.

“Where is he?” Johnson asked, his eyes wild. “Did you find him? I’ve been scouring the whole damn city…” His anguish was evident.

Anna, unafraid, sat down next Johnson and looked him in the eye, explaining how they were there the night he was arrested. Vronsky had rescued Balboa and taken him to a safe place. Johnson’s relief at the news was clear and he excitedly told them how he had found Balboa three years ago when he was a puppy, abandoned and bleeding in a dumpster. He had nursed the dog to health and Balboa had repaid his kindness and protected him when he was once attacked by a group of drunken college kids. Clearly the memory upset Johnson because he grew agitated. “You’re going to give him back. He’s my dog. Mine! He’s all I have now that Scottie’s gone.”

Vronsky bristled, but Anna kept her cool. “We are. We will. I needed to meet you first.”

“Are you sure you’re able to take care of him?” Vronsky added.

“He eats before I do. I treat him good,” Johnson said defensively. He was growing more anxious by the second. He kept rubbing his dirty jeans with both hands and then whispered, “He’s mine and I need him. He needs me, too!”

Anna, now satisfied, gently told Johnson they’d return Balboa to him.

“Now! You do it now!” The man jumped up and grabbed Anna’s arm.