“How many do you want?” the original lady asked sulkily.
“Do you remember their original order?” I asked.
The woman snorted.
I looked down at the little girl. “Do you remember what y’all got?”
She tapped her lips with one tiny finger. “No, but one of everything should do.”
I barked out a laugh, surprised and happy to see that she was bouncing back okay.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
The door banged open, and our donuts were waiting for us, already boxed. “I added a few more in here for you, on top of what she originally ordered.”
I blew out a relieved breath. “Thank you. How much do I owe you for them?”
She waved the words away with a sweep of her gloved hands. “Nothing. I’m just glad that she’s all right. That was pretty scary.”
“It was.” I thanked her. “Have a good one.”
When we got outside, Wendy clung to me like glue.
“Where did that dog come from anyway?” Wendy asked, looking around warily.
I reached for her hand and tugged her closer, just in case.
I had no clue where the dog came from, or why it’d gone after her specifically.
Maybe it was because she had food?
I didn’t know.
What I did know was I didn’t like how I felt seeing her in danger. I also didn’t like how it felt to hold Wendy’s hand.
It was doing stupid, weird things to my chest that I didn’t appreciate.
Fourteen
The only positive thing about being an adult is being fairly certain there is no monster under the bed. Hopefully.
—Constance to Odin
Constance
I dropped Wendy off at school quite a bit later than I intended, then went home to grab a distraction.
That distraction being Possum.
At least when I had Possum with me, I wouldn’t dwell on what had almost happened earlier.
At least, not the entire time.
My mom eyed me as I came into the rehab facility, half her attention on me, and the other half on the wolf juvenile she was trying to get to eat a chunk of meat.
I waved her off, knowing she was worried about me after I’d called her to tell her what happened earlier.
My dad met me by the car as I parked.
