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Chaos: I do now.

Me: Since when?

Chaos: A couple days ago.

I know. I watched her sit on dirty pavement for God knows how long because a scared, injured dog wouldn't come to her.

Chaos: His name is Alibi.

I know that too.

Me: Alibi?

Chaos: It's a long story.

My mouth twitches. I know.

Me: Why Alibi?

There's a pause.

Chaos: Because I found him while I was doing something that required plausible deniability.

I almost laugh.

Me: You were stalking me.

The dots appear. Stop. Then appear again.

Chaos: I can’t confirm or deny that.

Jesus Christ.

Chaos: Anyway, focus. The sweater.

Another picture arrives. Alibi is staring directly at the camera now, looking even more miserable.

Chaos: Before you answer, remember he was homeless.

I bite the inside of my cheek.

Me: You're using his trauma to justify that sweater?

Chaos: He likes it.

Me: He looks like he's being held hostage.

Chaos: That's just his face.

Me: He looks like he wants someone to call the police.

Chaos: He's smiling on the inside.

Me: Free Alibi.

Chaos: You haven’t even met him.

My gaze returns to the picture.