“Where’s Milo?” My mother didn’t look at me, fishing for something inside her purse instead. It was my father who said, his voice void of any tact, “He died.” Two words were all it took for my heart to crash and burn. Died. My best friend, our family dog of ten years, was dead. “W-Why?” My hands started shaking, and my eyesight got blurry. “You said he was okay.”
