I shoved my way out of the hall, got in my truck, and drove straight to Sienna’s. She lived in a small apartment above a bakery on Main Street just her and that massive orange tabby she’d rescued from the shelter and named Dump Truck because he knocked over everything he touched. Sienna had moved into this apartment right after dental school. Her parents—both doctors who’d wanted her to go into medicine like them and her father had been less than thrilled when she’d chosen dentistry instead. They lived about 30 minutes away though, in a house twice the size of this entire building, and visited maybe once a year if Sienna was lucky. She didn’t talk about them much. I’d known her long enough to read between the lines. The whole place smelled like bread and sugar and her landlord was constantly giving her free pastries because Sienna had fixed her grandson’s cavity for free last year. I knocked. The door swung open, and Dump Truck launched itself at my legs purring loudl
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