“That’s a Friday,” Traig said. “I’ll set up some time in the morning to go over things. Should I email everything to you in advance?”
“Yes, thanks.” I handed him one of the business cards I kept in my back pocket.
“Do you have any dietary restrictions?” Krem asked. “We usually do communal lunch on Fridays, and I need to make sure?—”
“Krem,” Traig said. “She just agreed to take the position. Allow her time to adjust.”
“I’m being efficient.”
Drogar tapped his fingers on the counter. “Do you want to see the outdoor enclosures? We have mossnibbles. They were inside, but I’ve relocated them to their new pen. They’ve built a nest out of someone’s jacket.”
I’d read about mossnibbles. Palm-sized, they had mint green fur and teal-blue eyes. They stole household clutter andrearranged it all into nests. They whistled when they were happy.
“I’d love to see them.” The words came out too eager, but I didn’t care.
Drogar’s grin widened. “This way.”
I followed him toward the back door, and I realized halfway across the room that I wasn’t returning to the clinic yet. I was staying for a tour.
Drogar led me outside, narrating like a tour guide who’d had too much coffee. The mossnibbles had built a nest inside someone’s jacket and lined it with a worn glove, clipboards, three metal straws, and a deck of cards still in the plastic packaging. Traig’s jacket, based on his growl.
Krem appeared at my left side with a three-ring binder thicker than my veterinary pharmacology textbook.
“Intake protocols,” he said, holding it out. “Also adoption applications, health histories, and dietary specifications. I’ve organized everything by species. I’ll forward the electronic copy to your email.”
“This is impressive,” I said.
“Traig made me put it together.” He tapped the top of his head. “It’s all in my mind, but he pointed out that not everyone has the same memory as me.”
“Photographic?”
Frowning, he pulled his phone from his pocket and took my picture.
“Yes, it’s photographic now.” He gave me a sweet smile. “I take good pictures.”
“That’s, um, nice to have here at the rescue operation.”
“I think so too.”
We walked past the enclosures. I asked about surgical capabilities, quarantine procedures, and emergency protocols.They answered every question, often talking over each other and arguing about details.
Brovish stayed beside me the whole time. He didn’t interrupt or correct anyone. Just watched me ask questions and listened when I took notes on my phone.
When I looked up once, I caught him staring.
He didn’t look away.
By the time we circled back to the main building, the sun had started to sink toward the horizon, and the sky had turned pink and gold.
“I should go,” I said.
Sofia made a low, mournful sound.
“She doesn’t want you to leave,” Brovish said.
“I don’t want to leave either.”
His eyes went wide.
