Chapter 5
I’m fine, but I have a bit of a situation.
Tension cranked Denver’s shoulders tight as he ordered Oscar into the backseat of the truck. He’d come home for a fast game of fetch when the storm died down, but it would have to wait. The dog leapt in, rubber ball clamped between his teeth, as if he sensed now was not the time to dally. It wasn’t.
Denver hadn’t asked if Misty was injured or what kind of shape the van was in. She’d said she was fine. But his brain readily filled in a multitude of horrors as he drove because he knew better than many that “fine” often wasn’t.
I’m fine, but there’s something weird on some of my tests. That had been what his dad said. He hadn’t been fine. Not even close. Denver knew this wasn’t the same thing, but he couldn’t seem to stop the churn of a
