Ada was twelve when her mother killed the dog. She was relieved when it died. It made her realize that life wasn’t for everyone. It was a golden retriever with soft curly hair. Her mother bought it after Ada’s father moved out, to replace him. She named it Faustus. It quickly became clear there was something wrong with him. He sat beneath the radiator in the kitchen and barked all night, from when Ada’s mother turned out the lights to when she came back downstairs in the morning. Whenever anybody tried to touch him, he shook as if he was terrified. But he was always trying to be touched, and he suffered from incessant digestive issues. If he was left alone, he ate everything he had access to—edible or otherwise—and then hid in shame beneath Ada’s bed. Ada’s mother decided that he was jealous. She turned the space under the stairs into a miniature version of their living room, with a green velvet sofa meant for children and small Persian rug.…