“How long have you been a vet tech?” I asked, keeping my tone conversational.
“Three years,” she replied, taking a careful sip of her tea. “I worked at a clinic in Colchester, but they’re downsizing, so...” She shrugged. “Time to move on.”
“Bad luck with the storm,” Caleb commented, lowering himself onto the couch at a careful distance from Julia.
“Yeah.” She looked toward the window, where snow continued to batter the glass. “My parents warned me to wait, but I was worried about missing the interview.” A rueful smile crossed her face. “Should have listened to them.”
“Parents usually know best,” I said, watching her reaction.
“Mine certainly think they do.” She laughed softly. “They’ll be frantic when they can’t reach me. My mom still treats me like I’m sixteen sometimes.”
The details felt authentic—specific enough to be true, but vague.
Scout jumped off the couch and positioned himself halfway between Julia and us.
“So,” she said after a moment, “what about you two? Are you... together?”
The question caught me off guard. I glanced at Caleb, finding him already looking at me, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Ten years strong,” Caleb said before I could answer. “She won my heart at the county fair.”
I had to turn away to look at the fireplace as I was sure to burst out laughing at his sincerity.
“Oh.” Julia nodded, though something in her expression suggested she didn’t quite believe him. “Well, it’s nice of you to take me in. Especially with your injury,” she added, nodding toward Caleb’s leg.
“Hunting accident,” he said smoothly, the lie we’d agreed upon. “Bad timing on my part.”
“Does it hurt much?” she asked, her interest seeming genuine.
“Only when I breathe,” he replied with a wry smile.
The conversation drifted into safer territory after that—the weather, local landmarks, Julia’s experience with animals. I let Caleb take the lead, watching instead of participating. He was good—asking questions that seemed innocent but were actually probing, establishing rapport while revealing little about us.
As the fire crackled and the wind howled outside, Julia’s responses grew slower, her eyelids heavier. Finally, her head nodded forward, jerking back up as she fought sleep.
“You should rest,” I said, setting my empty mug aside. “You’ve been through a lot today.”
“I don’t want to impose,” she protested weakly.
“You’re not.” I stood, gathering the mugs. “I’ll make up the couch for you.”
The sleeping arrangements would keep Julia isolated from both the ammunition box (hidden in Ella’s heating vent) and the back bedrooms where Caleb and I could talk privately.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her exhaustion finally winning out. “Just for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll figure something out...”
Within minutes, I’d transformed the couch into a makeshift bed, complete with extra blankets and a pillow. She was asleep almost before her head hit the cushion, her breathing deep and even.
I motioned for Caleb to follow me down the hallway, well out of earshot.
“She seems legitimate,” he said quietly when we reached Ella’s bedroom.
“Maybe too legitimate,” I countered, leaning against the doorframe. “Perfect story, perfect timing.”
“You’re suspicious of everyone, aren’t you?” There was no judgment in his voice, just curiosity.
“Aren’t you?” I raised an eyebrow. “In your line of work?”
“Former line of work,” he corrected, but nodded. “And yes. It’s kept me alive more than once.”
