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the small cups clasped in her mouth, using it like a toy. It suited her, so I kept the name and she’d been with me ever since—the one real constant in my life.
    I felt a few raindrops start and my tears became harder, my sobs wrenching out of my chest in loud gasps. From behind me, I could hear a low whimper, which caused me to lift my head.
    Elliott. He heard me crying and was answering me in his own way.
    Showing that, unlike his cold-hearted master, he did care.
    I had to find Dixie.
    With a new determination, I jumped up, wiped the tears away from my face, and ran down the steps. I raced as fast as I could across the sand, stumbling over my own feet in my haste, the space between the two houses seemingly vast all of a sudden. Once my steps faltered as his words “you’d better pray a coyote doesn’t find her first” flashed through my head. I lurched forward as nausea washed over me, and I dry heaved onto the sand at the thought of Dixie being hurt because of my carelessness. When I reached the empty house, my hope of finding Dixie waiting for me on the deck, was crushed, so I grabbed two things: my jacket and the flashlight. I had no choice; I had to try and find her. I had seen a path the other day in the woods behind the house—I would follow it as far as I could. I prayed I would find Dixie before I had to turn around.
    I tore out the back door and stopped at the edge of the forest. Taking a deep breath, I plunged into the woods. Gloom instantly surrounded me as I hurried forward, calling out Dixie’s name. Branches grabbed at my clothes, tearing at my hair as the woods closed in—the denseness around me muffling the sound of the ocean. The way ahead was unclear, and I stopped, panicking. How was I ever going to find Dixie in all of this unfamiliar darkness? I turned, realizing I no longer even knew where the house was located. I had no choice but to continue the way I came. Pushing forward, I began to pray.
    I was unaware of how much time had passed when I fell over an exposed tree root, twisting my ankle, crying out in the dark. I had been searching and calling, stopping to listen, praying I would hear Dixie’s bark. All I heard, though, were the sounds of the forest around me, the rain as it hit the trees, and my own sobbing breaths. I had been heading uphill for a while and the sound of the ocean was still to my left side, but otherwise, I knew I was hopelessly lost. I should never have come into the woods. The trail had petered out rather fast, but I had continued pushing ahead, my need to find Dixie overriding all my common sense.
    Now, I lay sobbing in the wet mud and dead leaves left by the cold winter. Why didn’t I bring my cellphone? Why hadn’t I waited until daylight? As much as I hated to admit it, Zachary had been right to say I needed to wait until the morning, but it had been his harsh remark about the coyotes that had sent me running in here, in a tailspin of fear.
    Gingerly, I climbed to my knees, wincing as I pushed off the wet ground in an attempt to get to my feet. My jeans were torn and my hands and knees were both covered in scratches and cuts. I stood, my legs unsteady, but collapsed back down when my ankle gave out as soon as I put weight on it. Crying, I crawled my way over to the closest tree, leaning up into it, hugging my good leg to my chest while my injured one stayed outstretched. The flashlight was lying beside me, its beam focused on the torn leg of my jeans, so I left it on as a form of comfort. Even though I knew the batteries would run out, I wasn’t ready to be in total darkness yet. I took in several breaths, trying to calm myself. I needed a plan.
    No one knew where I was, so I had to get myself out of the forest. I closed my eyes and listened. The ocean was in front of me, which meant so was the beach. If I went straight ahead I could get there and then get back to the house. If I’d been going uphill, as I thought, that meant I must be headed toward the bluff.