Page 5 of Sawyer

Chapter 2

Casey

My heart stopped.

I set my phone down, midway through sending money through the banking app to my brother, Michael.

I needed to get it done before lunch, but right now, I just didn’t care.

Chris, my friend and co-worker, nodded sympathetically as he slipped his backpack under the reception desk. I opened and closed my mouth like a fish out of water, unsure of what to say.

“You’re kidding, right?” I asked, hoping—grasping at the chance—that this was some kind of joke.

I tried to force a smile, but it felt awkward and strained. I was never good at reading people when they kept a straight face.

Chris has always been like that—hard to read—but today, something was off in his eyes, almost pitying. Still, I clung to the hope that he was just messing with me.

Chris shook his head, and my grip on my phone faltered.

I couldn’t believe it. Benny was gone.

I didn’t even get to say goodbye, give him one last belly rub, or feed him his favorite treat.

Benny was my favorite dog at the shelter. Every time I showed up to volunteer, he’d bounce around the moment he saw me.

Even if another volunteer had him leashed for a walk, he’d somehow slip free and race toward me as fast as his little legs could carry him.

Once, while I was busy leashing another dog, he broke away again and nudged my hand, demanding that I put the leash on him instead.

I must have been so lost in my thoughts about Benny, hating myself for not being there on his last day, that I didn’t notice Chris trying to roll my chair back.

His backpack strap had gotten stuck under one of the wheels.

I stood up, arms crossed, the question that had been building in me finally spilling out. “So, who got him?”

My tone came out sharper than I intended, but I couldn’t help it.

“Whoa, easy,” Chris said, raising a brow. “If you wanted him, you should’ve adopted him.”

"I know, I know," I sighed deeply.

I would’ve adopted him in a heartbeat if I could. But between running the pet grooming business and the burst pipe a few months back that drained my savings, it just wasn’t possible.

Things had only recently started to settle down, and now that the business was stable, I had been thinking about bringing Benny home.

But I guess it was too late.

“Do you, uh, know who adopted him? What they're like?” I asked, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly.

Chris finally got his bag situated and turned his attention to the coffee and donuts I’d brought in earlier.

“Lisa said it was some guy,” he began, his voice softening. He must’ve noticed how worried I looked. “She said he seemed nice. Friendly. Around our age, I think?”

I frowned. What did age have to do with being a good dog owner? Sure, if he was young, it might have meant he was fit enough to take Benny on long walks, but that’s hardly a guarantee.

And ‘nice’? ‘friendly’? People say that about anyone.

Hell, they could say that about psychopaths or sociopaths too.