I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face in his damp fur.

He was a solid, comforting weight in the freezing night.

My hand brushed against his heavy leather collar.

It was thick, nearly twice the width of a normal dog collar.

My fingers traced the rough, wet leather, feeling the heavy brass buckle.

Underneath the buckle, my thumb snagged on a seam.

The leather felt unusually stiff in that spot, hollow but reinforced with something solid.

I pulled my hand back, frowning.

The rain kept dripping from the edge of the stone bridge, splashing into the dark water.

My phone vibrated again in my coat pocket.

I pulled it out with trembling fingers.

The screen was cracked, but the display still worked, casting a pale blue glow on my wet hands.

It was a text message from an unknown number.

*They know where you are. Run.*

I stared at the screen, the light illuminating the dark water below.

I looked down at Bishop’s collar again, my heart skipping a beat.

I ran my fingers along the inner lining, feeling a hidden, waterproof seam that had been carefully stitched shut.