She set the pencil back down on the counter and twirled it in place.

The sound of Itzhak’s labored breathing filled the room. Natalie turned her attention toward the dog again. “I’m scared that Itzhak’s going to die.”

“Oh, honey.”

“He sleeps almost all the time. When I come home from school, he doesn’t run to say hi anymore. I think it’s his heart condition.”

At this time of day, the suspended glass cabinet glowed, as did every wineglass inside it.

“His eyesight and his hearing aren’t good either,” she said. “He can still smell me though. Itzhak has an incredible sense of smell. Did you know that a bloodhound’s nose is ten to one hundred million times more sensitive than a human’s?” She sniffed the air as if testing the sensitivity of her own nose.

“That’s amazing.”

Now one side of Natalie’s face was bathed in light. Her gray eyes had small flecks of yellow. I took several long, slow breaths. The ache behind my sternum was subsiding.

“Some bloodhounds can detect who has touched a pipe bomb after the pipe bomb already exploded.” Natalie got down from the kitchen stool and sat cross-legged on the hardwood floor, next to Itzhak. “They can detect one milligram of human sweat among one hundred million cubic meters of air. Those detective dogs are so cool. I’d love to meet one of them.”

Itzhak rolled over onto his back. She scratched him behind his ears. “You’re my best friend. Right, buddy?”

“Itzhak loves you so much,” I said.

“I read that some dogs go away to die.” She rubbed his stomach. “Is that true?”

The sun was quickly sinking behind the Straubs’ shrubbery at the back of their yard. “Itzhak, please don’t,” she said. “I’m scared that one day I’ll come home and he won’t be here anymore. No one will know where he went.” The whole house dimmed. Itzhak stood and limped away from Natalie and toward the tall glass doors.

“Maybe dogs who go away to die are hoping to spare their masters the pain of witnessing their death.” I’d been by myself with my uncle when he’d had a heart attack. I was twelve at the time. I called the paramedics, but, unfortunately, he died before they arrived.

Natalie hugged her skinny legs into her ribs. “I think it would be worse. The not knowing.”

Amelia and Fritz were going to return soon, but I was relishing my time with Natalie and wanted a few more minutes of uninterrupted conversation.

“Remember Lucia?” Natalie sat back down on the kitchen stool.

“Hmm?”

“She’s keeping her baby.”

I felt dust in my throat and coughed.

“I think you knew that already.” Natalie made eye contact with me. The yellow flecks in her eyes danced. I saw acuity in her gaze.