I grabbed a sweatshirt from the floor and ran outside barefoot.

Neighbors had already gathered, barefoot in pajamas and coats, whispering and holding mugs like shields. Most of them stood back, just watching.

“Was anyone inside?” someone asked.

“I think he lives alone,” another woman answered. “Just him and the dogs…”

Firefighters pushed through the front door, hoses slamming the ground behind them. Their voices crackled through radios, low and urgent.

Then, silence. Except for one low bark.

Then nothing.