The Bus Driver Saw the Dog's Warning—What He Found Under the Wheel Shattered Dana's Life — Part 2 of 3

The black object was a phone—and the last call was to Dana

Marcus didn't wait for Dana's answer. He dialed 911, his thumb pressing the screen as he kept his eyes on her, watching her every move. She looked like a cornered animal, her chest rising and falling too fast, her knuckles white on the leash.

"There's a suspicious object under my bus," Marcus said into the phone, his voice steady. "I need someone out here now."

The dispatcher asked for details, but Marcus was already walking back to the bus, motioning for the passengers to stay calm. A few had gotten off, standing on the curb, whispering to each other. The old woman with the shopping cart was filming with her phone.

Dana tried to pull Shadow away, but the dog wouldn't move. He sat down, his body rigid, his eyes fixed on the undercarriage. He let out a sharp bark, and Dana flinched.

"Please," she said, her voice breaking. "Just let me go. I'll take him home, I promise. He won't bother you again."

Marcus shook his head. "You're not going anywhere until I know what's under there."

The sirens came within minutes—two police cars, lights flashing, blocking the intersection. An officer named Thompson stepped out, a tall woman with a no-nonsense expression. She listened as Marcus explained, and then she crouched down, peering under the bus.

"I see it," she said, standing up. "Looks like a burner phone." She pulled on a glove and reached under, her fingers brushing against the object. "There's a note attached."

Dana made a sound—a choked gasp, like she'd been hit. Shadow barked again, louder this time.

Officer Thompson pulled the phone out, holding it up. It was an old model, cracked screen, a piece of paper wrapped around it with a rubber band. She carefully removed the note, unfolded it, and read it aloud.

"If you're reading this, it means I'm gone. And I know who did it."

The crowd fell silent. Dana's legs seemed to give out, and she stumbled, catching herself on a lamppost. Shadow whined, pressing his body against her leg.

"What is this?" Marcus asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Officer Thompson ignored him, her eyes fixed on Dana. "Ma'am, do you recognize this phone?"

Dana shook her head, but her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "No," she finally managed. "I've never seen it before."

Thompson held up the phone, pressing a button. The screen lit up, and Marcus saw it—a home screen with a photo of a man, smiling, his arm around a woman. The woman was Dana.

"Then why is your picture on it?" Thompson asked, her voice cold.

The crowd gasped. Marcus felt his stomach drop. Dana's face crumpled, and she sank to the curb, pulling Shadow into her lap. The dog licked her cheek, but she didn't move.

"I didn't mean for it to happen," Dana whispered, her voice barely audible. "It was an accident. I swear."

Officer Thompson stepped closer, her hand on her holster. "What was an accident?"

Dana looked up, her eyes red and swollen. "My husband. He found out about the money. We fought, and I ran. I didn't know he was under the bus until I heard the engine start."

Marcus's blood ran cold. He thought about the bus he'd driven every day for years, about the morning he'd heard a thump and assumed it was a pothole. He'd never stopped. He'd never looked back.

"Oh no," Marcus breathed. "No, no, no."

He turned to Officer Thompson, his voice shaking. "I think I hit something—last month, on the route. I thought it was a deer."

Thompson's eyes widened. She pulled out her radio, calling for backup, for a crime scene unit. "We need to check the bus's undercarriage," she said. "And we need to search the area."

Dana sobbed, burying her face in Shadow's fur. "He was supposed to be at work," she cried. "I didn't know he was following me. I didn't know he was under the bus until I saw the phone in his hand, and then the engine—"

She couldn't finish. The crowd was buzzing, phones held high, recording everything. Marcus felt his world tilt. He'd been driving this bus for twelve years, never a single accident. And now—

Officer Thompson looked at him, her face grim. "Sir, I need you to stay here. We're going to need a full statement."

Marcus nodded, his throat tight. He looked at Dana, who was still clutching Shadow, and he saw the truth in her eyes—the truth she'd been trying to bury, just like the phone.

"Why didn't you stop?" he asked, his voice cracking. "Why didn't you just stop?"

Dana didn't answer. She just shook her head, her shoulders heaving, and Marcus knew that whatever was about to happen, nothing would ever be the same.