There was indeed very little two very little dogs could do about a conspiracy for kidnap except bark aloud and cause a disturbance.

Sinclair found Rosy - she looked better than their last meeting - and told her all about the strange van and the two fellas that came with it, pretending to give out free baby products.

Together, they attempted to get Nicholas's attention since it would prove easier. Unfortunately, Nick was in a sour mood and ignored them because Joey had smashed his console in a recent fight. Instead, he picked Rosy up and marched into his room in anger, leaving Sinclair even more crestfallen than when he first arrived.

Disheartened, Sinclair trudged back home. He hated how every thing had turned out horribly. The will to run to Maxie left him since he could not particularly go such a long distance alone without being sent back to the Hopkins. He doubted he would even get to see Maxie at all.

He tried to keep his mind away from what would happen at ten o'clock, but kept remembering against his will. Now he dreaded the fall of night more than he dreaded the sight of those statues in the dark.

What else could he do?

Poor Leah. His only prayer was that she would wake up when the men tried to pick her up. At least a fuss would attract attention. But from who? Ms Wickleworth would be the only human being around, and from his previous suspicions of her, she would do nothing and let them take Leah.

View of the mansion came and frightened Sinclair even more. Even if someone other than Wickleworth was present, it could take them a long time to notice a kidnapping or any suspicious activities in the building. The Hopkins had no working security staff nor measures other than the little cameras around the yard that Matilde once revealed were broken. The only working cameras were located in the second hall leading to Mr and Mrs Hopkins's bedroom.

Sinclair thought it was the worst of luck.

He climbed up the front steps and nestled near the pillar of the front pavement. Wickleworth was napping and could not bring out his mat so he laid belly flat on the cold floor, his heart heavy with sadness, and soon fell asleep as well.

He was awoken by the sound of clattering.

"Oh, boy!" Wickleworth exclaimed as she struggled to bend over and retrieve the fallen bowl.

Sinclair perked up, realizing she had dropped his lunch. His oat bowl showed a long crack in the bottom, but was still intact by some miracle. Nonchalantly, he approached the food and began to eat from the floor.

The sun was out big, bright, and overheating the pavement. Good thing he slept near a pillar otherwise he'd have woken up with mild blisters.

The sudden shock of it being afternoon already paused him in-between bites of oat.

"Leah's up and calling for you." Wickleworth sighed, dabbing at her brows with a white handkerchief. She looked exhausted. "Best go to her right after your lunch. That child is something. Quite the needy bundle Primrose Hopkins has got."

Sinclair's ears stood upright. That was the first time - if his memory served right - that he ever heard Mrs Hopkins being addressed by her full name. He glanced up at Wickleworth.

"Don't give me that nasty eye." She wagged a weak finger and scowled. "I got enough attitude from that mischievous toddler already. You two are better together than apart as I see you're just two halves of the same coin."

She picked up the empty bowl just as Sinclair gobbled the last bits inside then pointed to the door.

"In you go, off!" Her tone was void of anger, but he hated how bossy it came off as.

At that moment, he sorely missed Matilde, again. She would've picked him up and taken him to Leah instead of letting him walk there - something she did more because she cared very much about him.

He traipsed into the mansion and ran all the way into Leah's bedroom. She was sitting up with her legs wide apart and with pieces of Lego blocks spread out in front of her. A distorted construction was half complete on one side, and she was so engrossed in putting another together that she barely noticed when he climbed up the bed.

"Bwock, tinkel." She offered a him red piece then decided to fit it into the construction instead. Again, she offered a yellow one.

He accepted it.

"In, bwock." She pushed the construction toward him and he got the idea that he was a new involuntary employee. The thought was frightening because his boss could throw a fit if he ruined her work. Carefully, he set the block on top of the others and instead of the wails he expected, Leah laughed.

"In." She instructed and fixed his mistake, babbling a thousand other things he could not understand.

Relief made him sit.

It was nice to watch her play again. She did not even look sick anymore. Her hair was held in high pigtails, and she wore orange shorts with a soft white shirt. Her slightly pink feet was bare, and the sight of her socks on the far end of the room led him to believe she had tossed them.

For a long time, he watched her toddle about, bringing and returning toys according to her preference. She spoke to herself and oftentimes to him, and he barked in response so as not to vex her.

Twice Wickleworth came to check on them by peeping in from the door. Sinclair hated that both times his stomach twisted and he remembered the horrible thing that would take place come ten o'clock.

There and then, he decided would stay with Leah until nightfall. Perhaps, even longer. No matter what, he would not let her face the kidnappers alone. But he also thought of going to see Rosy again. To try a second time.

If they were lucky, Nicholas would be in a less testier mood.

He watched Leah and - when she wasn't looking - made a quick dash out of the bedroom and out the mansion.

Racing down the empty street, his heart almost stopped when he turned a curve and met a face that gave him horrible nightmares.

"Haha, there's the pipsqueak!" Harry cackled at once. Behind the troublesome beagle stood a Golden retriever Sinclair had never met before; Bruce the pitbull, and the crazy Rottweiler, Carl. Standing on the opposite side of the street - probably facing off Harry and his gang - were another younger pitbull, a terrier that wasn't Rosy, and a poodle.

"Where you rushing off to, small fry?" Harry asked, his eyes curving in a devious way as he closed the space between them within a second.

Sinclair's knees melted into his feet as he lowered. "T-To Rosy's."

Harry and his company of dogs cackled like mad creatures. The beagle turned to Carl. "I told you she was gonna be his girl in no time. Empty-headed terrier, like that one over there." He gestured to the terrier opposite them. She frowned, but said nothing.

He shouldn't have spoken, but Sinclair felt the need to clarify. "Rosy and I are just buddies."

Harry turned with the most wicked look ever seen on a dog. "That my business, rookie? You see, I don't like you."

The other dogs closed in with their leader, including Bruce. Sinclair thought it best not to mention that he found it sketchy how Bruce had been nice to him at the Johnstone's party the night before. He glanced briefly at the poodle and others. They all looked just as hopeless as he did, and he gathered they were also victims of Harry.

"Brucie tells me you went to that party yesterday and was getting belly rubs all around." Harry unexpectedly barked once and pounced forward, forcing Sinclair back with a terrified whimper. "You think you're the bee's knees now cause you got attention, huhn, wimp?"

Sinclair shook his head vigorously. "No, no. I didn't-"

"I'm the real boss around here and even old Maxie knows that. Damn that he can reach the table easy and I can't." Harry's snarl grew the more he approached.

Sinclair felt the ground rise behind him and realized that he had backed up onto the sidewalk. Still, Harry did not stop advancing.

"You're a nobody." The beagle whispered dangerously. "I don't care that your owners got more influence than mine, you're nothing. Prance around all you want and get all the belly rubs in the neighborhood, but it won't change the fact that you're an attention-seeking coward, who thinks cause he's got in Maxie's good side he can roam around as he wants. I'm gonna teach you once and for all who's boss."

With that, Harry forcefully pounced on Sinclair, forcing the latter straight into the cluster of bushes behind, where thorns and other pointy things scratched and cut him as he tumbled through them. When he stopped, he realized that his four legs were trapped by ropy things.

From his vantage point, he could see into a smooth lawn on the other side, but his rough somersault had stopped before he could get there.

"No! I'm stuck! Help, I'm stuck." He cried out in panic. Each time he tried to budge, a particular needle-like object dug into his flesh just below his left hind leg, filling him thoroughly with pain.

"Please, help!" His voice broke worse, weakening his cries so that they were almost inaudible. He could feel blood dripping down his coat. "Help me, someone! I'm stuck. Help!"

When he quietened for a moment, he realized that the entire street was silent. His heart shattered. The dogs were all gone, and he was too far from the mansion for help to reach him quick. If he didn't get out fast enough, night would fall. He doubted Wickleworth would come looking for him at such late hours when it would be just her and Leah left in the mansion. The old lady might just bank on the fact that since he was a dog, he was only up to some mischief again, and that he would come home when he saw fit.

The thought made him break into tears. If only Matilde was still around. She would've come. She definitely would have.

He tried to move his leg again and felt the same deep piercing. A sharp wince came out of him and made him burst into tears once more. He was uncertain whether the pointy object was inside his leg or just a protrusion from the leaves that he was super close to. His limbs began to ache from staying still so long.

He watched as the sun reduced until it was gone for good, plunging the yard into mild dusk. The fear of his own suspicions settled fast on him. No one would come and save him. He would spend the rest of his life there, bleeding, hungry and thirsty until he probably. . .

He cut off the horrible idea, focusing on how horribly sore he felt.

Just then, he heard gentle ruffling.

"Sinclair?"

His spirits instantly soared. "Rosy! Rosy, I'm in here. Help, I'm stuck!"

Rosy's sigh of relief was audible, and when she spoke, it seemed she wasn't alone. "He's still in there."

"Alright, boys! Let's get him out, quick!" Maxie's voice ordered.

The next few minutes were filled with intense rustling. A rush of clean air bathed Sinclair bit by bit, until he could see the sky again. He lifted his weak head and glimpsed Rosy. A squad of dogs around her were working to clear a path in the bushes.

Two managed to squeeze through to where he was.

"You hurt, fella?" The speaker was a Golden retriever, but not Harry's co-bully.

"My leg." He looked down. "Something's inside it."

The retriever bent and very carefully chewed off whatever had been poking his leg for over thirty minutes.

Together, the dogs released him from the vines and helped him out of the bush.

Rosy rushed up to him, her eyes welling up. "Oh! Harry did this, didn't he?"

Sinclair nodded slowly, his entire body aching.

Maxie grunted. He sounded and looked angry. "Seems it's about time I handled that little dog syndrome of his. I warned him to stay away, but he didn't listen. This tears it. He's gonna hear from me tomorrow morning."

Sinclair glanced around at the company of dogs and spotted the poodle.

"This is Jenny, Sinclair." Rosy introduced. "She came to get me and told me what Harry did to you. She thought you were a friend cause you'd said you were coming to see me."

Sinclair assessed the poodle, who looked two times quieter than he did.

"Thank you, Jenny. I'm grateful for what you did, otherwise. . ." He trailed off.

"You're welcome." Jenny's puny voice came, but she wasn't looking straight at him.

"Zit true, Sinclair?" Maxie asked, coming forward. Everyone suddenly quietened. "The little Hopkins girl is gonna be kidnapped tonight?"

A surprised Sinclair turned to Rosy. She shrugged meekly. "I told him about it."

Hope had begun to ignite inside Sinclair's chest at the prospect of a solution now that Maxwell was aware of the wicked plot.

"So, you're gonna help me save her."

But Maxie heaved a long sigh and sat on his behind. "I'm afraid there's not much any of us can do about it even if we wanted to. I'm sorry, Sinclair boy. But what you want is just not possible."