My Ex’s Dog Brought Me the Pendant I Buried with Our Late Daughter – What He Led Me to Made My Blood Boil

I stumbled backward.

My breath caught in my throat. “Cooper? What…

what is this? How did you get this?”

He nosed the pendant gently toward me, then turned and started walking. Slowly.

Deliberately. Pausing every few steps to make sure I followed.

It felt insane, but I followed him.

We walked for what felt like miles.

Through back roads, overgrown alleys, downside streets I didn’t even know existed. My legs ached, my lungs burned, but I didn’t stop.

Eventually, we arrived in front of a house.

My jaw dropped.

It was the old house I’d shared with Garrett after we got married. The one Lily grew up in, and the one he had told the court he sold after the divorce. The windows were blacked out.

But the yard was strangely not overgrown.

I could hear something inside.

Movement.

Cooper barked once. Sharp and urgent.

I crept toward the window. I cupped my hands against the glass, peering in through a narrow slit in the blackout curtains.

My heart stopped.

Lily.

She was standing on a chair, facing the window, her tiny palms pressed against the glass. Her hair was longer, messier. But it was her.

She was alive.

When she saw me, she smiled. Not a confused smile. A happy one.

Then she waved.

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