I place the laptop on my thighs and open it, spending the next thirty minutes sipping my coffee and searching for corporate assistant jobs in Denver.
A few sound decent. And I apply for them because I need to give myself options. But honestly… I like working for my dad.
Tired of applications, I open a new browser and search for apartments in Denver. With the amount Dad is paying me, I could keep working for him but still move out. And Denver is close enough for a day visit, but it would put a few hours between me and Luther.
A few states would be better, but I won’t let thisbreakuprule my future, and I like living in Colorado.
Minutes go by while I scroll apartments, and a streak of red catches my attention.
Looking up from my screen, I spot Buddy darting toward me.
“Hey, Buddy.” I smile at his perfect little face.
He smiles back before shouting at me and leaping at the sausages.
My smile grows when I realize he wasn’t limping.
“Well, you seem to be feeling better.”
Buddy lets out another one of his scratchy shouts. Then downs another sausage.
I laugh. “You must be a growing boy.” As I say it, I wonder how old he is.
After opening a new web browser, I start a search forHow to tell how old a fox is.
In the results is a suggested question forHow long do foxes live.
I click on it.
I should not have clicked on it.
That sadness inside me folds in on itself. Doubling. Tripling.
“That… That can’t be true,” I sob.
Unable to help myself, I search more. And the answer is still the same.
Buddy tilts his head, looking at me.
“It’s not true.” I lie to him. “Foxes can live forever.”
Chapter 102
Luther
Jessie gives me the side-eye.Again.
“What?” I sound as exasperated as I feel.
She flicks her wrist so the towel in her hand drapes over her shoulder, then she puts her hands on her hips. “I’m going to ask you what’s wrong, and you’re going to tell me.”
“Noth—”
“And you’re not going to saynothing is wrong.” She says the last part in her mocking man voice. “Something is obviously wrong.”
It’s been four days and—I glance at the clock—three hours since I told Kendra we were done.
And yes, something is definitely wrong.