A crash downstairs turned the house into an uproar of Quill screaming at her dog while Orin’s mother yelled about catching whatever he’d just stolen from the kitchen, and Hollis laughing a great, big, belly laugh. Within seconds, my door flew open, and Boo dashed into the room, a whole cooked chicken in his mouth. He tried darting under the bed but didn’t fit, so half of him hung out, that white long-hair tail thumping against the floor in victory.
