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34
ASHTON
I find myself staring fixedly at the closed front door, desperately hoping to see Lennox walking in.
"No strays," Willow informs Kaleb, her words slightly slurred. "But I did adopt another cat yesterday. His name is Licorice. He's a four-year-old gray long-haired cat with blue eyes."
Kaleb speaks into his microphone. "There's a sixth cat, Licorice. Gray." He presses the gauze against Willow's knees, and she tears open a Band-Aid with her teeth. Kaleb then addresses my best friend, "Princess Betty, Snicker, and Olivia are accounted for."
Willow nods, visibly relieved.
Suddenly, the door opens, and my heart leaps, thinking it's Lennox. But it's not.
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