Whenever she pushed past the doors, locking eyes and calling out that word—Morgan—the dog grew so full of happiness that his whole body shook. The sound of her voice made him want to pounce and jump and left him wanting to hear it again and again, the same way he wanted her to take him with her when she went away, wherever she went.

She’d done it once, her and the man who’d pulled him from the water when he could no longer swim. That night the dog had been more content than since before he’d left his home. She was the one who’d brought him to this place. He knew by the scents in the air that it was too far from his home to ever find his way back.

At first, the dog had longed for her to bring him back there, back to the quiet land near the river. As he grew strong here and never felt the great hunger or thirst again, he remembered the long stretch of days before the water rose, and he no longer wanted that.

He thought of the man who’d cared for him most of the dog’s life—the one whose voice had been stern but whose touch had been gentle much more than it had been rough—and missed him. But the man had stopped coming, had stopped caring for him, and the dog no longer yearned for him the way he once had during the long, quiet days by the river.

Here, the dog was never hungry or thirsty, and no one’s touch was ever rough or painful. Still, the dog wanted something beyond this place even though he couldn’t imagine any life other than the one he’d lived before and the one he lived now.

He was dozing again when he caught the woman’s scent wafting through the doors. He barked and strained to hear her voice. Finally, he heard it but just barely, muted as it was by the doors and the walls. Hoping she’d come to him, he barked and barked till the dogs flanking his sides joined in, barking wildly enough that he could no longer hear her.

The dog waited, but she didn’t come to him the way she always did when he first heard her, bringing him something delicious to chomp up and showing she was as pleased to see him as he was to see her.

He whined and sank to the floor and waited in hope she would come to him. His eyelids had grown heavy again from all the waiting when his kennel door began to rattle. He jumped to his feet, a rush of delight at the realization that she was the one opening it. She sank low so that she was level with him and pressed her face into his neck and wrapped her arms around his body.