He knelt beside the dog, running his hand through the familiar coat, tears slipping down his cheeks.
Around the animal’s collar was a small tag with a single word engraved: “Max.” It didn’t make sense — not logically, not in the way the world works — but somehow, deep inside, he knew. Maybe it wasn’t about the years or the distance. Maybe some bonds never really end; they just wait for the right moment to return.
As the wind moved gently through the trees, he whispered, “I remember,” and for the first time in a long while, it felt like home had found him again.
