He held the bag closer, his stomach twisting. A crimson stain. He didn’t want to think about what might have caused it. His pulse pounded in his ears. What had happened here? His mind raced through possibilities, none of them good. He looked back at the weak puppy, then at the abandoned bag. Someone had been here. But where were they now?
A chill crept up Daniel’s spine. He thought about calling the police and reporting what he had found, but the pup’s ragged breathing made his decision clear. It needed medical attention—fast. He carefully wrapped the small body in his flannel jacket, securing it against his chest.