Sophie winced. Unfortunately, there was nothing sexy or fun about Harrison’s bedroom candles. She had him lighting three of them at a time in there now. Bubbles seemed to tolerate them without too much fuss, but there was no denying she wasn’t a fan. She had a tendency to turn her head away and burrow into Harrison’s chest, pretending the flickering lights weren’t there. She was like a child closing her eyes and willing the monster under the bed away.

In other words, the puppy was still scared, still a liability, still a failure on paper.

But paper only told part of the story. A person was more than the sum total of their awards and accolades, had more to offer than the sad, sorry tale told by their medical records. And so was a puppy.

All she needed was a few more weeks with Harrison and Bubbles, a few more weeks without a pair of well-meaning sisters peering over her shoulder. The trouble was convincing them of it.

“Dawn, I—”

A loud, impatient siren interrupted her before she could come up with a story that wouldn’t perjure her soul.

Because the basement was isolated from the rest of the church, the red blaring lights and screaming whir hit as if from out of nowhere. However, not one of the ladies in attendance showed signs of distress. An introductory cooking class was held in the upstairs kitchen the same night as the knitting circle. Half the time, they got to sample an array of cookies and pancakes as they left for the evening. The other half of the time, someone burned the cookies and pancakes, and everyone had to immediately evacuate the building.

As the acrid scent of charred carbohydrates wasn’t too far behind the whirring alarm, it seemed tonight was going to be one of the latter instances.

Ladies stabbed knitting needles into balls of yarn as they got to their feet, stretching and yawning and grumbling about which of the unfortunate pupils had done the damage this time. Sophie rose to join them only to glance over at Harrison and realize her mistake.

Or, to put it more accurately, she glanced over at Bubbles and realized her mistake. The puppy, already showing signs of distress at the loud noises and sudden commotion, had also noticed the shifting scent in the air. All the fur on her little body stood on end, and even Sophie had to admit that her eyes looked an awful lot like sad raisins.

“Sad, wet raisins,” she said with a groan.

“What are you talking about?” Dawn asked, but there was no time to answer her. The moment everyone started shuffling for the stairs, the puppy decided she wasn’t about to be abandoned to the fire and left for dead. Harrison reached for her, his arms swooping down to rescue her from the terrors all around, but it was no use.