Chapter 9

“Please let him still be here. Please.”5

The morning sun played over the tan exterior of the vet clinic, the day starting off without Tibbit. He called in sick, unable to deal with the prospect of seeing and interacting with other people. He barely bothered to get out of bed, venturing to the bathroom and to get snacks, sinking back into the nest of pillows and blankets. He drifted in and out of sleep, awakened two or three times by the joyful ringing of his cell phone.

He knew the tone.

He’d picked it out specifically for the caller.

So he avoided answering.