Her face twisted with rage as she yanked the necklace off my neck.

I cried out in pain, instinctively trying to explain in a small, trembling voice, “I… I didn’t steal it…”

Dixie held the necklace up in her hand, towering over me with a look of superiority.

A cold, mocking smile played on her lips as she snapped, “This necklace? I saw it in my uncle’s glass cabinet the last time I was here.”

Her eyes glanced at the jewelry. “This must’ve been something he planned to give me.”

“If you didn’t steal it,” she said with narrowing eyes, “then why was it around your neck?”

I opened my mouth to explain.

But before I could say a word, her mother slapped me hard across the face.

In an instant, blood burst from my lips.

I couldn’t help but let out a scream that tore from deep within me.

Dixie sneered. “Tch. It’s already bad enough that you’re leeching off my uncle’s money.”

Her lips curled as she glared at me like I was shameless. “Now you’ve got the nerve to steal from his villa too?”

“Even if I beat you to death right here,” she whispered, “do you really think my uncle would care?”

Right in front of me, she slipped the necklace into her own purse.

Funny thing was, she was the one who used to be a scholarship student from the mountains; she couldn’t even afford her tuition.

It was Dad, during an inspection trip out to those rural areas, who saw her and took pity. He offered to sponsor her all the way through university.

But over the years, she’s been taking advantage of Dad’s generosity—spending the money meant for her education on food, parties, and luxury, buying designer bags and clothes worth tens of thousands.

On her nineteenth birthday, she drove the million-dollar luxury car Dad had given her while drunk—and ran someone over, leaving them critically injured.

Later, she begged Dad, crying and begging for forgiveness.

It was me—over and over on the phone—who convinced Dad to give her another chance.

I never imagined that the underprivileged girl I’d once fought so hard to help would turn out to be this cruel and arrogant.

I lay there on the floor, struggling in a pool of blood, as Dixie and her parents kicked and punched me.

That was when Snoopy, despite his weak and battered body, finally reacted.

He rushed to my side, standing between me and them.

He bared his teeth, growling at the Yorks.

At that moment, I saw the same fearless spark in Snoopy’s eyes that I remembered from before.

It was just like years ago when he went days without food or water, digging through the rubble to rescue hundreds of lives.

“What the hell is this mutt doing here?” Dixie sneered. “You dare bare your teeth at me?”

And with that, she kicked Snoopy hard in the ribs.

He let out a choked whimper, holding back from biting her, still trying not to fight back.

When Snoopy refused to back down, Dixie’s dad grabbed a wooden broom handle and slammed it down on Snoopy’s back.

Snoopy let out a blood-curdling welp and collapsed on top of me.

Tears streamed down my face as I pulled him into my arms, shielding him with my own body. My back took the brunt of the blows after that.

The pain was so intense I went numb.

Blood spilled from my mouth, soaking into Snoopy’s fur.

He whimpered, struggling to break free from my grip.

Then, with all his strength, he leapt out of my arms and bit down on Dixie’s dad’s pant leg.

Even then, Snoopy didn’t go for flesh.

It let out a whimper that sounded like a plea.

It was as if he was begging the Yorks to stop.

“You filthy mutt! You dare bite Dad?!” Dixie roared.

She grabbed the fishbowl from the table and smashed it down on Snoopy’s head!

Glass shattered everywhere, and a brightly colored little goldfish flopped on the floor, twitched a few times, then stilled.

That goldfish… It was Dad’s gift to Snoopy.

To Snoopy, that little fish was a companion—almost like family.

I still remember when the fish got sick once. Snoopy sat by it for days, refusing to eat or drink until the goldfish finally recovered.

It wasn’t until three days later that Snoopy took his first sip of water again.

Heartbroken, Snoopy ignored the wooden broom handle Dixie’s dad was slamming down on his back.

The dog dragged itself over to the little goldfish, whimpering and choking with grief.

He was just too old.

All the strength he had left had been spent trying to protect me.

Snoopy’s sorrow and attachment to the goldfish was obvious.

But Dixie only sneered. With a cruel lift of her foot, she stomped down—right in front of both of us—and crushed the goldfish.

Then, without even flinching, she picked up the broken, bloodied pieces and shoved them toward Snoopy’s mouth.

“You liked it so much, didn’t you?” she spat.

Clenching her jaw, she shouted, “Then eat it! Go on—eat it!”

Snoopy resisted with everything he had, but Dixie kept slamming the remains into his face.

“Eat it!” she shrieked. “You filthy mutt! You crazy beast!”

Just then, my phone, which had fallen to the floor earlier, started ringing.

The dinner must’ve been about to start.

It was probably Dad, calling to remind me that the dinner was about to begin. He wanted me to bring Snoopy over to see his old buddies.

Dixie saw the caller ID.

“‘Dad’?” she read aloud with a scoff. “You even saved his name like that? Pathetic! You really think you matter, don’t you?”

Her mother, standing nearby, spoke up in a low voice, urging her, “Dixie, come on. It’s almost time for dinner.”

“Let’s go already. Don’t keep your uncle waiting,” she said, nudging her daughter.

Her voice even sounded excited. “I heard he wants to introduce you to someone really important tonight. He wanted us to have dinner with them, that’s why he invited us here.”

Getting impatient, she leaned in and whispered meaningfully, “Don’t miss this chance.”

Dixie glanced at me with disdain, then snorted. “There can only be one ‘underprivileged student’ my uncle sponsors—and that’s me!”

“If you don’t want to die, you’d better stay the hell away from him!” she warned.

The look she gave me… It was deadly.

Even her dad chimed in, trying to coax her. “Dixie, why don’t you head over first?”

“Didn’t you say you were going to apply for university?” he reminder her.

With a casual tone, he added, “I heard tonight’s guests are all big names.”

Encouraging his daughter further, he said, “Getting your face out there wouldn’t hurt—you never know what doors it might open after you graduate.”

Dixie tilted her chin, proud and smug. “Of course! Uncle said someone really influential’s coming tonight.”

“Apparently, he’s here to visit an old friend,” she recalled.

Her dad grinned knowingly and replied, “And who else would that friend be? It must be your uncle, of course!”

Then, suddenly, Dixie grabbed me by the hair and, ignoring my cries of pain, dragged me into the bathroom.

She turned on the cold shower and let the chilling water pour down over me.

The water mixed with the blood on my face, running down to stain the whole floor red.

Dixie shouted at me, “I bet you saw how rich my uncle is and thought you could seduce him, huh? Dream on!”

She gave me a glance over and shook her head. “I’ve seen too many sluts like you trying to get close to him.”

“And just so you know,” she went on, “every other girl he tried to sponsor before you? I broke their arms and legs. Made damn sure they disappeared from his sight forever.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. That’s when it all clicked.

Dad had once told me he didn’t just sponsor Dixie. Over the years, he’d helped a few other struggling girls too.

But each of them had suddenly cut contact. When they called him out of nowhere, they said they didn’t want his help anymore.

Apparently, it had always been Dixie behind it!

I screamed and suddenly burst out with strength. Despite the pain, I fought back and started grappling with her.

She yanked my hair and slammed my head against the edge of the sink.

Dixie grabbed another fistful of my hair, then shoved my head hard against the edge of the sink.

My face was covered in blood and flesh. My head was spinning.

Then I heard a rush of footsteps; her parents had heard the chaos and burst in. The three of them pinned me to the floor!

Dixie’s dad gripped the blood-soaked wooden broom handle and kept slamming it down on my head.

My entire body was drenched in my own blood, convulsing on the floor.

“You still dare fight back?” Dixie barked.

“I’m telling you,” she threatened, “just this theft alone is enough.”

“Even if I beat you half-dead tonight, my uncle wouldn’t say a damn word,” she said nonchalantly.

After throwing out those cruel words, she signaled her parents to grab my arms.

Then she raised the wooden broom handle high and brought it down hard on my elbow.

I heard a crack.

I felt my right arm snap!

“Ahhh!” I screamed in agony, tears streaming down my face, hair wild and messy, shrieking in despair.

Outside, Snoopy mustered the very last of his strength and burst into the bathroom.

When he saw me lying there, bloodied and broken, he let out a mournful cry—and without hesitation, he charged straight at Dixie and her parents.

Dixie jumped back in fright.

Then, she started hitting Snoopy again and again on the head with the broom handle.

Her father joined in, kicking Snoopy over and slamming his foot right into the dog’s soft side.

Snoopy collapsed to the floor, whimpering in pain.

Even then, he dragged himself forward with his front legs, inch by inch, slowly crawling onto me.

In the final moments of his life, he used his body to shield me from their blows.

Blood seeped out of his once-silky fur, dripping from his battered head.

“No!” I screamed, completely devastated, sobbing as I tried to hold Snoopy in my arms.

“If you care about this filthy mutt so much…” Dixie said. “Then I’ll beat it to death right in front of your eyes!”

Dixie ordered her mother to pry my eyelids open, forcing me to watch as she raised the handle again and brought it crashing down on Snoopy’s head—over and over.

Even after Snoopy stopped moving, even after life had completely drained from his body, Dixie didn’t stop.

She kept beating him.

Even after his skull was crushed, she didn’t stop.

Eventually, the wooden handle in her hand snapped in two from the sheer force.

Panting heavily, she finally stepped back.

At that moment, Snoopy never moved again.

To protect me, he gave his very last breath…

“Snoopy!” I cried out.

I held him tightly in my arms, heartbroken beyond words.

He died with his eyes wide open, refusing to shut.

No matter how I shook him, he didn’t respond—not even a little.

“Hmph. Stupid mutt!” Dixie sneered, giving Snoopy’s already lifeless body a hard kick.

The guide dog, once decorated with countless honors, had his head bashed open by Dixie and her parents using a wooden broom handle.

“Drag this little thief in front of my uncle,” she bossed around. “I want to expose her crime in front of everyone!”

She smiled with a triumphant look, her face beaming with the anticipation of praise.

“You caught a thief and took out a crazy dog in one go, Dixie.” Her parents beamed with pride. “Your uncle will be so pleased once he finds out!”

Dixie glanced down me and Snoopy lying on the floor, seemingly deep in thought.

“It just so happens that Uncle’s having dinner with his friends at here tonight,” she said flatly. “I need to make a good impression.”

Her mom looked at her curiously. “That’s right, Dixie. you better take the chance to show off!”

Dixie stared at Snoopy’s corpse, her voice brutally cold when she blurted out, “I’ve got an idea!”

A twisted grin stretched on her face. “This time, I’ll definitely leave a good impression on Uncle and his guests!”