The cold light of the fluorescent lamps cast grayish hues over Terminal D of Otopeni Airport. Officer Andre scanned the crowd with the vigilance born of years of experience. Beside him walked Luna, an imposing German Shepherd with a shiny coat and intelligent eyes. For three years, they had been an unbreakable team. In all that time, Luna had never made a mistake.

Andrei moved his gaze from face to face, watching gestures, movements, reactions. It was a game he knew by heart.

But that night, something changed.

Luna stopped abruptly. Her ears perked up, tail stiffened, and her gaze locked onto a woman pushing a stroller with a baby wrapped in a light blue blanket. The dog’s nostrils flared, sniffing the air with an unusual intensity. Then, without warning, a low and threatening growl rumbled from her throat.

Andrei sensed the shift immediately. The air seemed to thicken around them, and the terminal noise faded like in a dream. The woman — a thin brunette, eyes swollen with fatigue, pale-faced — clutched the stroller handle in desperation and stammered:

— Take the dog away from my baby!