"Here's how it'll go. Your body's so soiled no man would touch you. Biscuit's cleaner than you are, and a friend's dog happens to be in heat, so let Biscuit go service it."

I stared at Sherry, unable to believe what I was hearing.

"Eugene! You're just going to stand there while she insults me and insults Biscuit?"

Eugene frowned, then agreed to her demand without a second thought.

"Sherry isn't wrong. Aren't all dogs the same when they're in heat? The other dog needs it, so what's the harm in letting yours be used?"

I wrapped my arms around Biscuit.

I would never let anyone touch him.

The next moment Eugene wrenched me aside and pinned me down so hard I couldn't move.

He ignored my screaming and let Sherry take Biscuit's leash.

"Stop making a scene. It's only one dog. Is this really worth all that?"

Sherry dragged Biscuit away.

All I could do was hope Eugene, after keeping Biscuit for so long, wouldn't turn on him.

I couldn't sleep. I searched the whole night and found them in the park the next day.

The two of them were kicking Biscuit hard, and his cries went straight through me, cold to the bone.

My eyes stung and I rushed over, shoving them both apart. "Are you out of your minds? What kind of person bullies a dog? Stop it!"

Sherry shouted, furious. "I'd be right to beat it to death! It nearly bit my friend's dog to death!"

"And it won't let a dog mount it either. Playing the chaste little martyr, just like you. I bet you put it up to biting on purpose. How am I supposed to explain this to my friend?"

Eugene said coldly, "Then a dog's life for a dog's life. Just because that one isn't mine doesn't mean it's just some stray. It's someone's treasure. Whose fault is it that you didn't train your dog?"

My heart broke apart piece by piece. Did Eugene not know Biscuit had already been neutered? Did he not know Biscuit was my treasure too? "Anyone who dares touch Biscuit will have to go through me."

Eugene froze for a moment.

Sherry yanked hard on the rope with her right hand.

It wasn't a leash tied around Biscuit's neck. It was a rope.

Just an ordinary rope, pulled so tight that Biscuit was gasping and howling.

Rage took me, my eyes went red, and I grabbed a rock and hurled it straight at Sherry.

Everything fell into chaos.

The rock struck her open. Blood welled up and ran down her face.

Eugene panicked at once.

He looked at me with red eyes, as if I were an enemy.

He'd never looked at a business rival with such venom.

He pulled out his phone and called the police, and even told the officers when they arrived, "There's an attempted murder here. I need you to punish this person severely."

Attempted murder is a serious charge.

I was arrested on the spot.

Even with the cuffs on, I kept shouting, "Do whatever you want to me. Lock me up, fine. Just let Biscuit go. He's the only family I have left."

"I'm begging you, Eugene, don't touch my Biscuit!"

Sherry said in a soft, fragile little voice, "I never once said I was going to hurt a dog. You tried to kill me just because you suspected I'd lay a hand on it. You make me out to be some terrible person."

The moment she said it, a lot of people felt sorry for her.

And took me for a jealous, unreasonable shrew.

They put me in the holding cell.

One injury after another had left me unable to eat or sleep.

The worry for Biscuit kept me awake almost the whole night.

Until the next day, when Eugene showed up.

There was nothing in his eyes but cold indifference, not a flicker for my pale face.

"Sherry has a kind heart. She says that if you admit you attacked her out of jealousy, and apologize publicly online, and acknowledge that she's a good person who never did anything to wrong you, that you were the one who suspected her and went looking for trouble. Post a public confession of guilt online, and I'll get you out."

I forced the words out through clenched teeth. "Every single thing was done by her. Why should it all land on me? I won't sign anything, and I'll never post a word online that makes her look good."

"Judith, how far are you going to take this with a kid? Aren't you ashamed, at your age? She's just young at heart, she isn't some terrible person."

"She scolded you a little, gave the dog a couple of kicks, that's all. She didn't actually do anything wrong. She's so kind, she'd never really hurt either of you, and you won't even apologize?"

I was so furious I could barely breathe.

Biscuit's leg was crippled for life.

Every step he dragged himself forward was pain, and his health had always been frail. He wouldn't have lasted long as it was.

A couple of kicks? That was killing him.

Eugene saw he was getting nowhere with me, so he went straight for the threat. "If you don't agree, then you'll never see Biscuit again as long as you live. Let him die alongside that dog."

My composure broke and I changed my answer at once. "I'll do whatever you say. You want me on my knees apologizing to her, fine, but don't touch Biscuit."

I had only one condition. "I want him brought back to me safe and sound. Sherry isn't to lay a hand on him, and I'll apologize."

I started typing right away, taking every single thing onto myself, painting myself as a jealous, spiteful woman.

Then, already covered in injuries, I poured the bucket of ice water over my own body, shaking so hard even my teeth chattered.

A whole crowd online cursed me. Some of them told me to go die.

I didn't care about the pile-on, the cold, the pain.

As long as I came home and found Biscuit safe, all of it was worth it.

I was released.

But back home, there was no sign of Biscuit anywhere.

Instead, Sherry, who somehow knew our door code, had let herself in and was strolling around like she owned the place.

I looked at her and the words came out frantic. "Biscuit? Where's my Biscuit?"

Sherry smiled, vicious and innocent at once, dripping with malice. "Huh? You mean that stray mutt? He died ages ago. Whined and whimpered all night, and you wanted me to spend money taking him to a vet. I didn't have the cash, so I just let him hurt until he died."

My eyes nearly split open. I seized her by the throat and squeezed. "I did everything you told me to. Why couldn't you let a dog live? Why are you this cruel?"

Sherry's face changed. "Eugene, help me."

Eugene, back I don't know when, yanked me off her. "It's just an animal. Dead is dead. A crippled dog was going to die sooner or later anyway. What does that have to do with Sherry? You'd kill someone over a dog?"

I lost all reason. "Where is my Biscuit? You promised me nothing would happen to him. If Biscuit is dead, I'll kill her right now!"

Sherry flinched, the words slipping out before she thought. "How would I know where some dead dog got thrown?"

I tore down the stairs like a madwoman and started searching everywhere for Biscuit.

Even the heavens seemed moved, hurling down a furious rain that matched exactly what was inside me.

And Eugene, who had once called himself Biscuit's daddy in every other breath, didn't care in the slightest whether I lived or died.

"Biscuit, please, please be all right!"

I dug for a long time.

In the end I found his cold body in the trash.

Biscuit's body was broken open, a gaping hole torn through him.

And yet his face, even twisted as it was, held a trace of peace.

Even at the end, Biscuit was afraid of upsetting me, afraid of worrying me.

He gave me the most dignified, the very smile I loved best.

The rain came down hard.

I couldn't seem to feel myself crying. It was all rainwater.

Biscuit wouldn't want to see me sad either, so I didn't cry. I really didn't.

And so the last family I had left in this life was gone too.

I wonder if this result satisfied Eugene.

But it did not satisfy me.

Eugene Sanchez. Sherry Bowen. I will make you both pay.