22
A few more days passed in which Samantha barely left her the house. Lazily, she changed the channel on the tv, searching for a movie or a program she could binge-watch while eating copious amounts of ice cream.
“Arf!”
“No, you’ll ruin the couch,” Sam said to the hellhound, trying to sound stern.
“Arf…” the puppy lowered her ears and stared up at her with big, begging eyes.
Sam’s heart melted. “Ah, fine. But only this once.”
The hellhound barked happily and curled into a small ball on her lap, a comfort in lonely times. Softly, Sam stroked the dog’s head, following the grey hairs down the path of the blue markings. They were invisible now and if anyone saw the pup, she’d be able to convince them this was a regular dog. She seemed regular enough, Sam thought. The pup liked food, run
