The Second Time Around

Chapter Four

Abby clipped the leash onto Atlas's collar, feeling the comforting weight of the leather strap in her hand. The German Shepherd sat patiently by her side, his intelligent eyes fixed on her, as if waiting for a command. Atlas had always been attentive, Drew had told her, a loyal companion who rarely left her side. Now, as they stepped out into the crisp autumn air, Abby felt a small sense of relief, as though she could finally breathe away from the tension inside the house.

The leaves crunched beneath her boots as they walked along the tree-lined street. Abby kept her pace slow, watching Atlas's ears twitch at every sound, his body alert but calm. He walked beside her, matching her steps with ease. She could sense his quiet protectiveness, the way he kept an eye on her without making it obvious.

As they moved further from the house, Abby's thoughts began to wander. She tried to focus on the rhythmic sound of their footsteps, the cool breeze brushing against her skin. Atlas nudged her leg every now and then, reminding her of his presence. His solid weight was comforting, a steady presence in the chaos that had become her mind.

The streets were familiar, at least on the surface. But there was an underlying strangeness to everything—like she was walking through someone else's life. The neighborhood, with its neatly trimmed lawns and parked cars, seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place the names of the streets or the faces of the people who occasionally waved at her. Drew had said they'd lived here for years, but Abby felt like a visitor, a stranger in her own neighborhood.

As they neared the edge of town, the small city came into view. Abby paused for a moment, taking it all in. The city wasn't large, but it bustled with life—cars zooming by, people rushing from one place to another. She hadn't realized how close they lived to the city center, and now, standing on the sidewalk, she felt an odd pull to explore. Maybe a walk through the streets would help clear her head, she thought. Maybe seeing new things would stir something familiar inside her.

She led Atlas toward the city, his leash held loosely in her hand. The buildings loomed taller as they entered the main strip, the hum of traffic growing louder. Storefronts lined the streets, their windows displaying everything from boutique clothing to freshly baked pastries. Abby glanced inside one of the bakeries, the smell of cinnamon and sugar tempting her senses. The warm glow of the interior felt inviting, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Like the distance between her and the familiar was growing wider, not smaller.

They walked past a few cars parked on the street, and Abby's attention was drawn to a sleek black Challenger, its glossy paint reflecting the midday sun. Next to it was a Mustang, the kind of car that felt like it should mean something to her. Drew had mentioned her Mustang... her Mustang, she thought, with an odd pang in her chest. The car was totaled, he had said. But what had it looked like? Had she loved it? She stared at the muscle cars for a moment, feeling the edges of a memory she couldn't quite grasp.

Atlas tugged lightly at the leash, pulling her out of her thoughts. They continued walking, passing more cars—a lifted truck with massive tires, a deep green Camaro that purred as it idled at a stoplight. Abby found herself cataloging the vehicles, drawn to their shapes and sounds, as though they held pieces of herself she was desperately trying to collect.

They passed a small park, tucked between two buildings, with benches nestled beneath old oak trees. Abby paused, looking at the sprawling lawn and the neatly groomed flower beds. A few families were scattered around, kids chasing each other while their parents watched from a distance. It seemed peaceful, a place where she might like to bring Atlas one day. She made a mental note to return, imagining Atlas running through the grass, his ears perked and his tail wagging.

But the further they walked, the louder the city became. The screech of tires, the blare of a horn, the endless hum of conversations all seemed to converge at once. Abby's heartbeat quickened, her hands tightening around Atlas's leash. She glanced around, suddenly feeling out of place, as if the buildings were closing in on her. She couldn't remember which street they had come from. Everything looked the same—blurring together in a swirl of noise and motion.