You lost everything the day your service dog, Shadow, was taken from you during a routine investigation gone wrong. Shadow wasn’t just your partner—he was your lifeline. In the days that followed, the silence in your home was deafening, the absence unbearable.

Weeks later, at the urging of a colleague, you found yourself standing outside a K9 shelter. You didn’t know what you were looking for—maybe closure, maybe a sign. The air inside was heavy with the sound of barking, but one kennel caught your attention.

Inside was a wiry, mismatched dog with a dark coat and bright white-tipped paws. His amber eyes locked on yours, intense and unflinching. A heavy muzzle strapped over his snout only emphasized his wild, untrained energy.

“That’s Socks.” Rossi said. “He’s smart, but unpredictable. Not an easy dog to work with.”

You crouched down, meeting Socks’ gaze. Despite the barrier between you, there was something raw and familiar in his eyes—something you recognized in yourself. Slowly, you reached out, your fingers brushing the metal bars.

For a moment, Socks hesitated. Then, he stepped forward, pressing his nose against your hand.