(nw)The boy vanished from the yard, and eight years later, his father looked under the neighbor’s doghouse and went pale…

“Thomas, we’ve become so isolated these past eight years. When was the last time we had anyone over?” “Years ago.” Thomas didn’t respond immediately, knowing she was right.

They’d gradually withdrawn from social ties, their search for Caleb consuming every aspect of their lives. “Michael, too,” Emily continued. “Look how closed off he’s become since his wife and son died in that robbery ten years ago.

Can you imagine living alone for so long? He must be so lonely.” She paused, resting a hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “Maybe it’d be good to have dinner together.

We’ve all been through similar losses. Maybe we could find some new connection.” Thomas considered her words, his gaze drifting back to the documents on the table.

Maybe she was right. Maybe they all needed this small step toward normalcy. “Alright,” he finally said.

“I’ll go invite him for dinner tonight.” Emily’s smile was worth the concession. It had been too long since he’d seen genuine joy on her face.

Thomas zipped up his jacket and stepped into the crisp winter air. Snow crunched under his boots as he crossed the street to Michael’s house. It was a modest two-story home, like most in their neighborhood, though less maintained.

Paint peeled in spots, and snow hadn’t been shoveled in years, piling up. Reaching Michael’s front door, Thomas knocked and waited. After a minute with no answer, he knocked again, louder.

Nothing. He was about to leave when he heard sounds from the backyard. A dull thud, like someone hammering nails.

Thomas circled the house, his boots sinking into the deep snow of the backyard. “Michael!” he called. “It’s Thomas, your neighbor.”

The sounds led him to a small wooden structure at the far end of the yard, an old dog kennel that had stood there as long as Thomas could remember. Michael was inside, seemingly fixing something. Hearing Thomas’s voice, Michael froze for a moment before carefully climbing out of the small structure.

“Thomas!” Michael said, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you knock.” “No problem!” Thomas replied, noting how quickly Michael stood and positioned himself in front of the kennel.

“I’m surprised you still keep that old dog kennel. It’s been years since you had a dog, right? Want help tearing it down?” Thomas offered. Michael’s response came with a slight stammer.

“This? It’s a reminder of Rex. He was a good dog. I like having it around.”

Thomas nodded, understanding sentimentality. People clung to different reminders of those they’d lost. Michael gestured to a partially built larger structure nearby.

“Actually, I’m thinking of getting a new dog. Been working on this for a few weeks, wanted to finish it this morning.” Thomas raised his eyebrows, surprised.

“Seriously? You’re working in this weather? That’s impressive, Michael. I used to breed dogs when I was younger. More hobby than work, of course.

What breed are you thinking?” Thomas asked. “Haven’t decided yet,” Michael replied, seeming more at ease as the topic shifted. “Maybe a puppy or a medium-sized dog?” “Well, Emily and I wanted to invite you for dinner tonight,” Thomas said.

“But if you don’t mind, I could help finish that new kennel in the morning, and then we could go pick out a dog together. I know a local breeder in the county.” Michael paused, then nodded.

“I’d appreciate that. I think I can finish this in a couple of hours, and dinner sounds good. Thanks.”

As they talked, Thomas noticed Michael occasionally glancing at the old dog kennel. There was something odd about his neighbor’s demeanor, but Thomas couldn’t pinpoint it. Michael had always been reserved, especially after his tragedy.

Maybe it was just discomfort from unexpected socializing. “Great, I’ll let you get back to it,” Thomas said, stepping back. “Just swing by when you’re ready to head to the breeder, and we’ll see you for dinner around six.”..