Chapter 6 — Colin Comes Home

The front door opened, and a briefcase hit the floor.

“Sorry, traffic was awful,” my husband, Colin, called, cheerful, coming down the hall. He stepped through the archway and stopped dead, taking in his crying niece, his stone-faced parents, and me standing rigid with my phone in my hand.

“What’s going on?”

“Your parents took Max to the shelter,” I said. “While Lia was at school. They packed up her things and left a note on the door.”

The color went out of his face. He looked at his father. “You did what?”

“It was an old dog, son,” Arthur said, waving it off. “Your wife’s being hysterical. Tell her to sit down.”