When Donnie had asked if he’d seen the mice, Rich assumed they were dead. His lover wouldn’t have been so adamant about checking on them otherwise. So when they entered the part of the lab housing the animals cages, he was surprised to see the mice active behind the thin steel bars.
“They look fine to me,” he said, shutting the door to the room behind them. “I don’t know why you’re so worried—”
“Look closer,” Donnie told him.
Rich did, crossing the room so he could bend down and peer into the cage. What he saw up close shocked him. The mice looked…well, sick, was the only word that came to mind. Their movements were slow, sluggish, almost dazed. Their bodies looked bloated, their tails drooped. Black beady eyes were now raw, rimmed with irritated flesh or, in some cases, dried blood. Mo
