“The voice was gravelly and gruff, any inherent kindliness muted by fatigue and fear. “You gotta go outside to do your business! I told you that before I left. That’s how come there’s a hatch in the door over there.” A whimper greeted the words, followed by the sound of four small paws treading on soaked and scattered newspaper. A single light fixture dangling on a long, brown cord swayed slightly, throwing a harsh reflection at the greasy window and the black night beyond. Aside from the light,... the room was furnished only with a sink, a chair, and a square table that looked none too clean. “Peeughh … It surely does stink in here. Lucky thing we don’t have to worry about neighbors.” There was a laugh here, a bray of brief bravado. “That nice middle-class ideal: neighbors, kids playing outdoors, washing machines, bikes on every porch, dogs underfoot.” The cynical tone devolved into one of vitriol. “What am I gonna do with a damn dog?” Sensing danger, little Kit Carson made no sound.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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