The woman stepped backward.

The girl couldn’t move.

She stared at the trunk while the dog stood rigid beside her, ears forward, breathing hard.

Then a muffled voice came from inside.

Too weak to understand.

The girl rushed toward the car.

“Dad?”

No answer.

She pressed both hands against the trunk.

“Dad, it’s me!”

The woman grabbed her arm.

“Wait.”

The girl spun around.

“What?”

The woman’s lips trembled.

“I saw your father leave this car an hour ago.”

The girl froze.

“That’s impossible.”

“I watched him walk away.”

Another sound came from inside the trunk.

Not a knock this time.

A strained whisper.

The girl leaned closer.

“Dad?”

The dog suddenly backed away.

His body lowered.

A deep growl replaced the barking.

The woman stared at him.

“Why is he doing that?”

Then came a small metallic click.

The trunk latch moved from the inside.

The lid lifted less than an inch.

The girl reached toward it.

But the dog lunged between her and the car, growling harder than before.

And from the darkness beneath the barely opened trunk came her father’s voice.

“Don’t let it out.”