My sister-in-law called me from a resort, asking me to feed her dog — but

While I waited for the authorities to arrive, I tried to keep Ethan calm. He was understandably distraught and wary, but slowly, I managed to coax a small smile from him with promises of food and a safe place to stay. I raided the cabinets, finding some bread and peanut butter, hastily assembling a sandwich. Ethan devoured it hungrily, washing it down with a glass of milk I found in the fridge. It was obvious he hadn’t eaten properly in days.

“Ethan, has this happened before?” I asked gently, trying to keep my voice steady. He fiddled with the edge of his shirt, eyes downcast. “Sometimes,” he whispered. “When I’m bad.”