Stillson’s waiting room is empty of patients. I’m glad—I don’t have the energy to be grateful for well-wishes right now, even though I am very grateful how my new community has come together to save one of their own.
The door to the exam room hallway is open, and whimpers echo from behind one of the doors. “Ah, he can smell you’re here,” Catrina says, rising from the desk to greet me. She delivers a quick hug and pushes back to look at my face. “Let’s get him home and you into a shower. Let Wes and Len and those guys do their job, yes?”
I nod, wanting to protest that I should be there every second, but I am exhausted, I am hungry, and I want to make sure my ridiculous dog will survive this latest misadventure.
“Come on,” Catrina says. I let her lead me down the hall to the exam room tha
