sagged.
“You okay?” I asked.
He nodded much too quickly.
“Fine.”
Something about the way he said it bothered me.
But first, I needed answers.
“Inside.”
The guest room made far more sense once I knew what I was seeing.
There was a small animal carrier against the wall.
Tiny bottles.
Kitten formula.
A digital scale.
Stacks of old towels.
A heating pad beneath one side of a shallow box.
And several printed pages of instructions bearing the logo of a local animal rescue organization.
I turned slowly toward my
