She tilts her face up, uncertainty written all over it. “What are you going to tell Drew?”
“Don’t worry about Drew. I’ll take care of it.”
We lie on the bed, petting and playing with Gryff. He chews on our fingers, my comforter, and even Viola’s hair. The way her face lights up when she looks at him makes me so damn happy, and I wish I could bottle up this moment and just keep it this way forever.
I remember Viola telling me how much she wanted a dog. She asked for one every Christmas, and like clockwork, it never came. I didn’t grow up with pets, except one old cat my mother cherished like a baby. I never got close enough to it to consider it a companion, but Viola would go nuts every time someone would walk a dog past their house. She talked about dogs like she did her books, and I kn
