*At the memorial service, a dog leaped onto the veteran’s body — what followed brought everyone to tears…

His partner, his handler, his whole world was gone, and he didn’t understand why. A muffled cry broke through the air. Margaret, Elijah’s sister, gripped the edge of the pew as though it was the only thing holding her upright.

Her face was pale, her eyes swollen from hours of crying. Around her, the rows of soldiers sat frozen, their uniforms crisp, their hands clasped tightly together. They had fought alongside Elijah, they had seen him walk through hell and come back, but nothing had prepared them for the sight of Orion, curled against his chest, refusing to let go.

One of the officers stepped forward cautiously, reaching for Orion’s collar, but the dog let out a deep warning growl. It wasn’t aggressive, it was protective, desperate. His grip on Elijah’s uniform tightened, his nails pressing into the fabric as if anchoring himself to the man who had been his entire life.

The officer hesitated, then slowly pulled his hand back. No one in the room had the heart to force Orion away. Let him be, Chaplain Reynolds said softly.

His voice, though calm, carried the weight of finality. He’s grieving, just like the rest of us. Margaret wiped at her tears with shaky fingers, her voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t understand, he thinks Elijah is coming back. The words hung in the air, suffocating. Orion let out a small whimper and nudged Elijah’s arm with his nose, just like he used to do on the battlefield when his handler had been knocked down.

It was a signal, get up, soldier, but there was no response. Then suddenly, Orion’s body stiffened. His ears pricked up, his breathing grew shallow.

His head lifted slightly as his dark eyes locked onto something in the distance, something no one else could see. A chill ran through the room, almost imperceptible, but enough to make the hairs on the back of Margaret’s neck stand up. Orion wasn’t just looking, he was tracking.

Margaret swallowed hard, glancing at the chaplain, then back at Orion. What is it, boy? she whispered, her voice barely audible. But Orion didn’t respond, he didn’t move, he just kept staring, and nothing.

A cold hush settled over the chapel. Orion remained perfectly still, his body tense, ears pricked forward. His deep brown eyes stayed locked on something no one could see.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, grief was still thick in the air. But now, something else crept in, something unnamed. Margaret wiped her tear-streaked face and followed Orion’s gaze.

But there was nothing there, just the casket, the flag, the flickering candlelight. Her pulse quickened. The other soldiers exchanged uneasy glances.

This wasn’t normal. Orion was highly trained, he wouldn’t react like this unless there was something there. Sergeant Duane Carter, who had served with Elijah overseas, cleared his throat.

What’s he looking at? His voice was hoarse, edged with something between fear and reverence. No one answered, the silence stretched. Orion didn’t blink, his breathing was steady but focused, as if he was tracking a presence no one else could perceive…