Chapter – 3 : “Three Seconds”

“I told you.”

The words hung there.

Simple. Calm. Certain.

Lina stared at the dog.

The coffee slowly spread across the floor behind her, creeping toward the leg of the table, unnoticed.

Her fingers loosened slightly at her sides.

“…No,” she said quietly.

It wasn’t denial.

Not fully.

More like… refusal to accept the direction her brain was trying to go.

“No,” she repeated, a little firmer this time, straightening her posture like that alone could reset reality. “That was a coincidence.”

The dog blinked.

Once.

Slowly.

“If you need it to be.”

Lina’s jaw tightened.

The owner shifted awkwardly near the door. “Doctor… should I—uh—clean that?”

“Yes,” Lina said immediately, grateful—desperately—for something normal. “Yes, please. That would be great. Thank you.”

The man hurried to grab tissues from the counter outside.

The moment he stepped out—

Silence snapped back into place.

Thicker now.

Heavier.

Lina didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe any deeper than necessary.

“…Okay,” she muttered under her breath. “Let’s just—figure this out.”

The dog’s ears perked slightly.

Like he’d been waiting for that.

Lina dragged a hand through her hair, pacing once across the small exam room.

“This is stress,” she said quietly. “Or—lack of sleep. Or—something neurological. That’s a thing. That happens.”

“You talk a lot when you’re confused.”

She stopped pacing.

Turned slowly.

“…You,” she said, pointing at the dog, “are not helping.”

The dog tilted his head again.

“You’re the one asking questions out loud.”

“I am not—” Lina stopped herself, pressing her lips together.

Right.

She was.

Fantastic.

She took a slow breath, then crouched slightly, lowering herself closer to the dog’s level again.

Careful.

Measured.

Like approaching something unpredictable.

“Alright,” she said quietly. “Let’s assume—hypothetically—that this is real.”

The dog’s tail gave a faint wag.

Encouraging.

That somehow made it worse.

Lina continued, voice tight with control.

“If this is real… then you’re talking.”

“Correct.”

“And I’m hearing you.”

“Also correct.”

“And no one else can.”

The dog glanced toward the door where the owner had disappeared.

Then back at her.

“Does he look like he’s reacting?”

Lina didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

Her pulse had picked up now—not racing, but no longer steady.

A slow, creeping awareness settling in.

“…This is not possible,” she said.

“And yet.”

She exhaled sharply through her nose.

“Okay, no. No, we’re not doing the cryptic thing. If I’m hallucinating, at least be a clear hallucination.”

The dog’s expression—if she could even call it that—shifted slightly.

Something almost like… amusement.

“You want clear?”

Lina didn’t respond.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t look away.

The dog leaned forward—just slightly.

Not aggressive.

Not threatening.

Just… deliberate.

“Don’t let him open the suitcase.”

The words landed differently this time.

Not just strange.

Not just impossible.

Important.

Lina’s brow furrowed despite herself.

“…Why?”

“You’ll see.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the one you’re getting.”

Lina let out a short, incredulous laugh under her breath.

“Great. Fantastic. I’m being warned by a dog who refuses to elaborate.”

“I’m being questioned by a human who keeps stating the obvious.”

She stared at him.

For a second.

Two.

Then—against all logic, against every rational instinct—

A small, disbelieving smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“…You’re annoying.”

“You’re slow.”

“Excuse me?”

“You took too long to listen.”

Her smile vanished.

That sentence—

Something about it didn’t sit right.

Didn’t sound like a joke.

“…What does that mean?”

The dog didn’t answer immediately.

His gaze shifted—just briefly—toward the door.

Footsteps approaching.

The owner.

Then back to Lina.

“You’ll understand.”

The door handle turned.

Lina straightened instantly, stepping back just as the man walked in with a handful of tissues.

“Sorry about that,” he said, kneeling to clean the spill. “I don’t know how that happened.”

“Yeah,” Lina said absently, her eyes still flicking toward the dog. “Weird.”

The dog sat there.

Perfectly normal.

Tail wagging lightly again.

Like nothing had happened.

Like he hadn’t just—

Lina swallowed.

“…Right,” she said, forcing her voice back into professional shape. “So. About your dog.”

She stepped forward, picking up her clipboard—something solid, something real.

“Physically, he’s completely healthy,” she said, words automatic now. “But behaviorally… I think you should avoid opening that suitcase for now.”

The man blinked, confused. “The suitcase?”

Lina hesitated.

Just for a fraction of a second.

Then—

“Sometimes,” she said carefully, “animals react to unfamiliar objects. Especially old ones. It might be carrying a scent or something that’s triggering him.”

Not a lie.

Not entirely.

The man nodded slowly. “So… just leave it alone?”

Lina glanced down.

The dog was watching her again.

Quiet.

Intent.

Waiting.

“…Yes,” she said finally. “For now.”

The man exhaled, relieved. “Alright. I can do that.”

He finished cleaning, then stood, giving the dog a quick pat.

“Come on, buddy.”

The dog hopped down from the table.

Trotted toward the door.

Then stopped.

Turned.

Looked back at Lina.

Not playful.

Not curious.

Focused.

“This is just the beginning.”

Lina’s fingers tightened slightly around the clipboard.

The owner opened the door, unaware.

“Let’s go.”

The dog turned back.

Walked out.

Gone.

The door closed behind them with a soft click.

And just like that—

The room felt empty.

Too empty.

Lina stood there for a long moment.

Then slowly looked down at the floor.

At the faint stain where the coffee had been.

Three seconds.

Exactly.

Her grip on the clipboard tightened.

“…Okay,” she whispered.

But this time—

There was no denial behind it.

🪴💐🪴💐🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁💐🪴💐🪴

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***