The dog leapt into her master’s arms with such force, as if she were trying to make up for twelve lost years in a single moment. She nearly knocked him over. And for the first time in all those years, the prisoner felt no cold, no chains—only warmth.

He held her tightly, burying his face in her thick fur. The tears he had forbidden himself for so long finally burst free. He cried openly, without shame, like a child, while the dog whimpered softly, as if she too understood how little time they had left.

“You’re my girl… my faithful one…” he whispered, holding her tighter. “What will you do without me?”

His hands trembled as he stroked her back again and again, as though trying to memorize every detail. The dog gazed at him with eyes full of loyalty.

“Forgive me… for leaving you alone,” his voice cracked, hoarse with grief. “I couldn’t prove the truth… but to you, I’ve always mattered.”

The guards remained still, many turning their eyes away. Even the hardest among them couldn’t stay unmoved. Before them wasn’t a criminal, but a man who, in the final moments of his life, was clinging to the last piece of his world.

He lifted his eyes toward the warden and, with a broken voice, said:
“Take care of her…”

He asked the warden to take the dog into his home, promising he wouldn’t resist, that he would accept the sentence.

At that moment, the silence was unbearable. The dog barked again, loudly and sharply, as if protesting what was about to happen.

And the prisoner did only one more thing: he embraced her once more, holding her as only a man can when saying goodbye forever.