Lila pressed another flyer against the gas station window, her hands shaking as the tape refused to stick in the heat. Otis had slipped away two hours ago, and every minute that passed made her chest tighter. She needed to find her dog—he was all she had right now. The desert stretched endlessly in every direction, and she couldn't stop imagining him hurt, lost, or worse. She taped up three more flyers on the building's side, each one showing Otis's face and her phone number in bold letters. A truck rumbled past on the highway, kicking up dust that stung her eyes. She wiped her face and stared at the empty road, willing him to appear. She grabbed more flyers from her car and headed down the road. A wooden post stood outside a small diner, and she taped one there. The reward amount looked bigger in the sunlight—maybe someone would notice. Her phone sat heavy in her pocket, silent. She moved to a bulletin board near a payphone and pinned up another flyer. Each one felt like a tiny lifeline stretching out into the emptiness. What if Otis was too far away to hear her calling? What if he was chasing something and couldn't find his way back? She pushed the thoughts down and kept walking. She had to believe someone would see these flyers and bring him home. Lila spotted an old Zastava Grille 1984 parked behind a chain-link fence. The smoke-grey car looked abandoned, but a metal water bowl sat near its front tire. She squeezed through a gap in the fence and checked the bowl—bone dry. Dogs needed water, especially in this heat. If Otis was thirsty, he might come looking for places like this. She filled the bowl from her water bottle and set it back down. Then she taped a flyer to the fence post where anyone passing by would see it. Her throat felt tight as she stepped back through the gap. She'd posted flyers all over town now. All she could do was wait and hope someone would call. Back at the small motel room she'd rented, Lila spread a map across the bed. She circled every spot where she'd put up a flyer. The vintage building sat on the edge of town, and from her window she could see the highway stretching in both directions. Her phone lay next to the map, screen up, volume turned all the way up. Otis had escaped before—he always came back. But never this long. She stared at the circled spots on the map and tried to think like him. Where would a husky mix go in all this heat? Her chest squeezed tight again. She had to find him. He was her whole world right now, and she wouldn't stop searching until he was safe beside her again.