By verse three, Rob had pulled his car into a handicapped spot directly in front of the animal hospital. It only took seconds for him to get out of the Audi and grab Liz, who was still breathing, albeit shallowly, her eyes now open. She looked almost amused as Rob raced through the waiting room, somewhat unsure of where he was going.

The place was surprisingly packed for a Saturday night. Families with whimpering mutts and newborn puppies stared at him, horrified, as he walked briskly with the bleeding dog in his arms.

A vet he’d never seen before, a slender young woman with dark hair, cut him off at the door to an operating room. “Can I help you, sir?”

“She’s bleeding. A medicine cabinet fell on her. And she has canine epilepsy.”

Before Rob could continue, the woman calmly placed her arms under Liz’s legs and removed her from his embrace. Rob followed her as she brought Liz down a narrow hallway to an empty room with green checkered wallpaper. She placed Liz on a table that looked similar to what Rob might see in his own doctor’s office, a narrow bench with a green plastic cover and thin white paper rolled out on top.

The pretty vet ran her hands up and down Liz’s stomach, stopping at the wound. Rob watched as another woman in scrubs came into the room and put gloves on.

“Sir, it might be best for you to wait outside,” the second woman said, giving Rob a sympathetic look.

“Is she going to be okay?” Rob asked.

“I don’t know yet,” the vet said distractedly, as the other woman ushered him out of the room, the doors between him and Liz swinging closed behind him.

Hannah

“Don’t leave me,” Hannah said, pouting at Vicki, whose new gray-haired friend was waiting just a few feet away.

Hannah couldn’t figure out when and why Vicki had become so chummy with this older man, whom Vicki had introduced briefly as Bee’s uncle. It wasn’t like the new, postcollege Vicki to talk to strangers. It certainly wasn’t like the new Vicki to warm up to a man who quite obviously wanted to sleep with her.

“We’ll be two tables away if you need anything,” Vicki responded reassuringly. “If you go crazy, just come over and pull up a chair.”

“We?” Hannah whispered, throwing a sharp glance at Bee’s uncle, who stood a few feet away from them with two glasses of red wine in his hands, presumably one for him and one for Vicki. He was staring blankly at the table in front of him, shifting his weight between his feet. Hannah scowled and looked back at Vicki, who was still smiling at the uncle.

“Are you two a ‘we’ now? You and Bee’s uncle? What is he, sixty?”

“He’s, like, forty-two,” Vicki said, flashing an angry glance at Hannah, and adding in a loud whisper, “He’s a lot younger than Bee’s dad. And by the way, it’s not like that.”