In the window overlooking the patio, the curtains rustle. Dad’s arm tenses around me; I know he saw it too. Someone – one of Kat’s parents – watching us, maybe, studying the words forming on our lips.
But when we make our way into the kitchen, it’s empty, silent except for the hum of the fridge. The floor tiles are gleaming white, not a trace of the mess that was there earlier.
Crew, a yellow lab mix puppy -with feet larger than his body- sniffed the sidewalk, grass, and the potted plant by the door of the vet’s office.
The vet’s office was located on the outskirts of the historic town in a valley surrounded by mountains.
Glancing around quickly to see if cameras were following me, I opened the door. Crew preceded me inside. No one would follow me here. No one knew who I was.