That summer day, Cherry Valley looked like it had been taken straight out of the fairy tales, where everyone had come to celebrate the wedding of Elena and Nicole. Young, beautiful, and beloved by all, their story had become a symbol of hope after hard years marked by drought, illness, and the quarrels of the elders that had weighed heavy on the hearts of the people.
No one could have suspected that, on the side of the road, a strange woman with her face hidden under a gray shawl was slowly making her way toward the crowd. Her steps were slow, almost floating, and no one noticed her.

The only one who sensed something was Milo. The village dog. He was lying in the shade near the well, at the woman’s movement, his ears perked up, the fur on his neck bristled, and his tail rose slightly. His gaze turned sharp, like claws.
Her movements were stiff, as if she was hiding something heavy under her dress. She looked down, avoiding people’s eyes. And Milo… he knew. He sensed with that sixth sense animals have that this was not just a wedding day — danger was near.
Suddenly, the dog jumped to his feet. A short, sharp bark cut through the joyful music like a whip crack. The crowd stopped, stunned. The bands fell silent, and everyone turned toward the agitated dog running straight at the stranger.
The woman took a step back, but Milo was faster. He grabbed the hem of her dress with his teeth and pulled. At that moment, Nicole, along with other men, rushed toward the dog, thinking he had gone mad from all the commotion.

But then it happened. From the pulled folds of the dress, a metal box fell onto the stones, with tangled wires and a small red digital screen. It made a sharp sound that echoed through the sudden silence.
A frightened murmur rose. The woman shouted:
“Don’t come any closer!”
But it was too late. Nicole had already grabbed her arm. Elena, pale as chalk, took a step back, clutching her dress to her chest. The digital clock blinked ominously. 02:41… 02:40…
“It’s a bomb!” someone from the crowd screamed.
Milo didn’t move. He stood between the woman and the box, eyes gleaming, growling softly.