I step back, processing what’s going on here. Bobby whimpered and tried to fight back, but Ethan didn’t let go of him until he lost a lot of blood. My hands started to tremble, and my knees weakened, wanting to shout and curse at him for doing that to Bobby. He dropped the poor dog on the ground, lifeless, and started to take a step forward closer to my spot.

“Ethan! Are you fucking sick or something?! Why did you-” then I stopped when I realized he was holding a knife. Ethan is holding a knife.

Why would Ethan hold a knife and kill a dog he loves and treat...