Frowning, Rosalynn scanned her surroundings.

This dog possessed a well-groomed coat, radiating beauty. Surely, it must have an owner.

Just then, a faint cry of a woman's voice reached her ears.

“Evelyn, where have you been? Come out!”

The dog in Rosalynn’s arms perked up its ears and let out a whimper.

Soon enough, a young woman emerged, calling out to the dog.

“Evelyn, you're running around again. Come here.”

Rosalynn handed the dog over to her and offered a gentle reminder.

“It seems Evelyn may have stepped on something sharp. Take her to the pet hospital for proper care."

"Oh no! Did Evelyn get hurt? Thank you." The woman expressed gratefully before hurrying away.

Rosalynn brushed off any stray dog hair clinging to her clothes.

As she turned around, she saw Brian still standing in the distance, as still as a statue.

Under the sunshine, Brian's eyes gleamed with radiance.

He pressed his Lips together, his jawline tense.

His tall, strong build put people at ease in his presence.

Observing him, Rosalynn recalled something.

In a truck, a cacophony of sounds erupted-women's piercing scream, amen's boisterous laughter, and a dog's incessant barking.

Just then, a young man charged to them, wielding a stick and seething with anger.

He lunged at the rowdy hooligans.

The dog lunged at him, sinking its teeth into his arm.

Rosalynn's chest rose and fell with each breath. As Brian approached her, she contemplated many things.

“Do you have a fear of dogs?" she asked.