“Good enough,” I say. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
I take Darth back to the kitchen. I’ve missed the days of dog sitting for Darth when Bret and his mother went on summer vacation. I crouch in front of the cage door and make cooing noises at the dog. He whines, one large paw over the other, as if asking me to let him out. He sighs heavily, and his eyes start to close for the night. Come morning, I will be back to check on him again.
“Goodnight Darth,” I say and lock the back door behind me. I drop the house key in the mailbox outside.
Philip waits for me on the porch.
I am still in my bathrobe and a stiff cold breeze creeping up my bare legs reminds me where I am.
“Are you still thinking about pressing charges on that dirt bag?” he asks.
I look up at the inky sky. It is too
