I arrived at Colin’s house bright and early Sunday morning. After dinner last night, we’d tried to watch a movie. In the end, the poor guy couldn’t keep his eyes open. Widget and I had done one last walk for the night, and by the time we were back, Colin was in bed, barely able to keep his eyes open.
I considered staying the night, but that felt too intrusive. I’d be back first thing in the morning anyway. Now I had a spare key, I could sneak in and take Widget out without disturbing him if he was asleep.
He wasn’t asleep, though. He was sitting at the dining room table with his laptop open.
Widget, who’d greeted me at the front door, barrelled back over to him and rubbed against his leg.
I eyed him as I dropped the fresh sticky buns from Nice Buns on the table. Ambrose had been servin
