My stomach dropped. Like I was on a roller coaster. Except without the thrill.
"Hey, Riley—got the donations and that latte."
I blinked and turned. "Yeah. Thanks."
Evan slid them across the counter. I reached for the boxes, feeling the cardboard.
"I'll take the boxes to my car and come back for the latte."
My legs lagged, half a step behind, like they hadn’t gotten the memo to move.
I pulled in a breath, steadied the weight, offered the best smile I could manage, and pushed the door open with my shoulder.
Cold air slapped against my face.
By the time I got back to Timberline, the sky had turned a dull gray that didn’t seem to know if it wanted to snow or rain. I handed the latte off to Tessa, who looked way too cheerful for someone scraping frost off a kennel latch.
“Guess who found a way to chew through another blanket,” she said, nodding toward the far pen.
I didn’t even have to look. “Bruno.”
“Bingo. He’s now sleeping on a towel and his own poor decisions.”
I set the boxes near the donation shelf. “We still low on puppy pads?”
“Bottom of the bin,” she said. “I’ve got a tab open to reorder, but the site keeps glitching.”
“Try switching browsers,” I murmured, already halfway through the inventory checklist.
The rest of the morning blurred into quiet noise—kennel gates clinking, dogs barking, the scrape of a broom against concrete.Tessa hummed something tuneless under her breath while prepping food bowls. I ran my thumb over the intake board, the dry-erase marker in my hand hovering before I erased a name and rewrote it. Then rewrote it again.
“Did you see that family from yesterday called back?” Tessa said. “They’re thinking about coming back for Domino.”
“That’s good,” I said, without looking up.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” I marked something on the clipboard. “Just behind on scheduling.”
Tessa didn’t press. She just handed me a leash and went to grab the next bowl.
I clipped it to Bella’s collar. “Come on, girl. Let’s go pretend everything’s fine.”
Bella trotted beside me, nails tapping against the concrete as we made a loop around the outdoor pen. The cold bit at my knuckles. My fingers were already starting to stiffen. I didn't bother tucking them into my sleeves.
Bella lowered her nose, snuffling deep into the dead grass, paws shuffling as if something buried under the frost might still be worth finding.
I crouched next to her as my fingers twisted the leash. “You remember when he called you a gremlin?”
Bella blinked up at me, tail wagging once.
"He acted like he owned the place after, like, two visits. Walked around reorganizing things like it was his name on the lease."
"The guy argued with me about how to store canned food, Bella. Canned food.”
She leaned into my knee.
“I mean, who even does that?” I shook my head. “And don’t give me that look. You liked him. Traitor.”
