CEREBUS
Cerebus—she had already whispered his name to him last night—wriggled restlessly.
“A pup,” Ellie said, her voice quick, almost casual.
Mrs. Calloway frowned. “Doesn’t look like the others Maple dropped last night. Heard she had a whole litter, didn’t she?”
Ellie’s mouth went dry. “Seven,” she whispered.
The woman’s eyes narrowed. Ellie was sure she’d seen too much. But then Mrs. Calloway sniffed, flicked her sheet across the line, and waved her hand.
“Well, keep it out of my garden. I don’t need strays chewing up my beans.”
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