Élodie discovered the account at 11:43 p.m.
She was not looking for it.
That was the worst part.
She had been scrolling aimlessly, half-asleep, thumb on autopilot, when a familiar silhouette appeared on her screen.
Black fur. Noble profile. Judging expression.
Lucien.
Her stomach dropped.
The username was worse.
@KidnappedByMyOwner
"No," she said aloud.
She tapped.
The profile picture was unmistakably Lucien. Sitting on her couch. Looking directly at the camera with mild resentment.
The bio read:
> Unwillingly adopted. Wronged. Observing.
Her heart began to pound.
"This isn't real," she whispered.
The first post was from two days ago.
A photo of Lucien lying dramatically on the rug.
Caption: I hate my owner.
Élodie made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a choke.
She scrolled.
Another post.
Lucien at the vet, gazing stoically into the distance.
Caption: She took me to be stabbed for money.
"Oh my God," she said. "Oh my God."
Her hands shook as she refreshed the page.
Comments.
Actual comments.
> FREE HIM
> Blink twice if you're being held against your will
> That dog has seen things
Someone had tagged an animal rights organization.
Someone else had commented:
> This feels illegal
Élodie bolted upright.
"I did not kidnap you," she hissed, turning to Lucien.
He lay on the floor, eyes half-closed, perfectly relaxed.
Unbothered.
"How," she demanded, "do you have a social media account?"
Lucien opened one eye.
Closed it again.
Her phone buzzed.
New follower.
Then another.
Then another.
"Oh no," she whispered.
She opened the DMs.
Are you safe?
Do you need help?
Post if you're in danger.
Her breathing went shallow.
"This is bad," she said aloud. "This is very bad."
Lucien rose and walked over, peering at the screen.
He stared.
Very carefully.
As if reading.
She snapped the phone away.
"Don't you dare," she said.
Lucien sat.
Patient.
---
She began pacing.
"This is slander," she muttered. "You were injured. I paid for everything. I bought you steak."
Lucien's ears flicked at steak.
She stopped.
"…Did you write this?"
Lucien blinked.
Once.
Slowly.
She laughed hysterically.
"No," she said. "No. Dogs can't type."
Lucien tilted his head.
The phone buzzed again.
A notification from a local account.
> I think I've seen this dog in my building.
Élodie froze.
Her pulse roared in her ears.
"No," she whispered.
She looked at Lucien.
He was watching her.
Closely.
Calculating.
"You didn't," she said softly. "You wouldn't."
Lucien's tail thumped once.
Not apologetic.
Not reassuring.
Just… factual.
Élodie slid down the wall and buried her face in her hands.
"I am going to jail," she said flatly.
Lucien lay down beside her.
Content.