Val sighed. “Why won’t you eat, dude?”

He tilted his head into her palm, his coat rough against her hand.

Jess folded her arms. “I feel like he’s giving up.”

“Don’t do that,” Val murmured. “You can’t do that, boy.”

The dog’s tail wagged.

“He perks up for you,” Jess noted.

Val sighed. “I can’t imagine why. I ran him over.”

“Maybe you’re the first kind hand he’s felt in a long time.” Jess paused. “Wait here. I have an idea.”

She bustled away, and Val stroked the dog’s back with long, strong sweeps of both hands. He rolled onto his side, raising his paws to show his belly, although his hind legs barely moved. Val rubbed it, and one hind paw twitched in response.

“Hey, Jess!” she called. “Jess, look at this!”

Jess returned, carrying a bowl. “What?”

“Look.” Val rubbed his belly again. “Look, his paw moved.”

“Oh, yes. He’ll be bearing weight again soon. That pelvis should heal fast.” Jess shook her head. “If he starts eating.”

“What do you have there?” Val asked.

“Treats. Since he likes you...” Jess shrugged, “maybe he’ll take one.”

She held out the bowl, and Val retrieved a dog cookie.

“What’s this, boy?” she crooned. “What’s this?”

The dog’s ears rose. He rolled upright as she stopped the belly rubs.

“Good!” Jess whispered. “See if he’ll take it.”

Val waved the treat in front of his nose. “Here you go, boy! It’s yours.”

The dog’s pink tongue splashed on the edge of the treat. Val froze, fighting the urge to hold her breath. He reached out delicately with his front teeth and gripped the cookie.

“Good boy,” Val whispered. “That’s it. Take it, boy. Good boy.”

The dog snapped up the treat, crunched it in a spray of crumbs, and swallowed.

“Good boy!” Jess cried.

“Good boy.” Val rubbed his head. “That’s our boy.”

“Try putting this one in his dish.” Jess handed her another treat.

Val laid the dog cookie in the bowl, but the dog barely sniffed it.

“You want the royal treatment, huh?” Val retrieved it and held it out to him. “Only hand-feeding will do for you, sir.”

The dog ate three more treats before he got tired. He laid his head on his front paws and sighed deeply.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Val stroked his ears, craning her neck to look at Jess. “I mean, he ate something.”

“It’s good,” Jess assured her.

Val sighed as she straightened. Jess slammed the cage door, and the dog raised his head as Val stepped back. He only gave one quiet whine, but the sound followed her into bed that night.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Val put her tired legs on the couch and raised her coffee mug to her lips. It was extra strong. She’d returned home at midnight, and it was seven-thirty now. She had to leave soon if she was going to get Blair and Yuka to work by nine.

Val sipped the coffee, relishing the bitter kick on the back of her tongue, then picked up her phone and dialed the number labeled HRM Queen Julia.

The queen picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

Someone screamed their lungs out in the background—likely a tiny princess with a penchant for setting herself and her surroundings on fire.

“Uh, is this a bad time?” Val asked.

“My toddler just caused a small earthquake, and the breakfast table fell into the resulting chasm,” the queen informed her calmly.

“Oh, shit,” Val observed.

“I’ve had worse mornings.” Julie laughed.

“I’ll call you back,” Val offered.

The queen snorted. “Trust me, my day seldom gets less chaotic as it goes on. Hold on a second.” Her words grew muffled. “T? Taylor! Watch out. She’s going for my coffee again. You know how that ended last time.”

“Lilli!” King Taylor groaned in the background.

“Okay, it’s cool. The husband is wrangling the toddler. What do you need, Val?” Julie asked.

Val cleared her throat. “Nothing, Your Majesty. The question is more about what you need from me.”

“That babysitter from The Incredibles. I’d like to hire her.” Julie sighed.

Val blinked. “What?”

“You haven’t seen it? Make the time, and watch the second movie, too. I feel so seen.” The queen sighed. “Wait, you were asking me something. Sorry. I haven’t had coffee yet. T! Honey! Watch the curtains!”

Flames whooshed in the background, followed by the frantic hiss of a fire extinguisher.