Fuck. This can’t be happening. I pinch the bridge of my nose, then trail my fingers through my hair, tugging at the roots. “Shit, Corabelle. Tell me which hospital and I’m on my way.”

“Are you sure? I know you’re working…”

“My shift is up. I want to be there.”

Her sigh of relief kisses me through the Bluetooth. “We’re at Care.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

I disconnect the call and drive at least ten over the speed limit, my mind reeling, until I careen into the lot and park like a jackass, taking up two spaces. I run through the main entrance and find Cora and her parents huddled together in the waiting room. Cora stands as soon as she spots me coming towards her and we’re yanked together like magnets, pulling each other into a tearful embrace. I smile at the Lawsons over Cora’s shoulder. Derek has his hand on Bridget’s knee, while Bridget blows her nose into a tissue.

“I’m so sorry, Cora,” I whisper against her ear, feeling the way she tightens her hold around my midsection in response. “How much time do we have?”

“They’re waiting for us in the… room,” Cora sniffs, pulling back to glance at me through red-rimmed eyes. She swipes at the tears along her cheekbone. “Mandy’s at work. She said it was too hard to be here. Mom and Dad are going to wait out here, but… did you want to come in with me? To say goodbye?”

“Of course.”

I don’t hesitate. We rescued this dog together, and I’ll be damned if I’m not with Cora when Blizzard takes her last breath.

Goddamn.

Cora gives a tight nod, then alerts one of the staff that we’re ready to go in. I follow her, a solemn silence settling between us. It’s a quiet, peaceful room, adorned with electronic candles and soft music. Blizzard is lying very still on a dog bed in the center of the floor, her fluffy chest heaving ever so slowly with each breath. I feel my emotions get stuck in my throat when I lay eyes on the dog that has felt like my own for the last ten years. I’d dog-sit her when the Lawsons took family vacations. I’d take her to the dog park with Mandy and Cora, watching her chase tennis balls and make new friends. Blizzard always greeted me first when I’d walk through the front door with Mandy, collapsing onto my feet and rolling over for belly rubs. She always sat beside me at the dinner table, waiting for the snack I’d inevitably offer her, and she always wagged her tail in adoration as I sang karaoke in the Lawson’s living room.

Her tail never seemed quite as enthusiastic when everyone else sang.

The technician talks us through the process in a kind voice, letting us know to take as much time as we need. There’s a button we need to press when we’re ready.

When we’re ready to let her go.