In a small clearing, Rex stopped. He sat beside a weathered stump, his eyes fixed on Isaac. The boy sat too, feeling the earth beneath him, solid and reassuring. As if sensing the profound need for expression, Rex barked—a single, sharp sound that seemed to echo through the woods.

Isaac, startled, looked at the dog. In Rex’s eyes, he saw an invitation, a permission to release the storm within. And so, for the first time in years, he opened his mouth and let out a sound—a sound that started as a whisper and grew into a wail. It was the cry of a child who had endured too much, too soon.