August, 1967

Cambridge, Great Britain

There had been some pleasantly warm days that summer, mixed with some unreasonably hot ones. That day was one of them, and one would think it was too hot to be drinking hot tea. Not Jack Moffitt. He would stick with his tea ritual no matter how hot it was. The heat was made more unpleasant by the humidity, an issue he never had in North Africa. Nevertheless, he would have his tea, at each meal, no questions asked.

He was a bit confused when he entered the kitchen after reading in the parlor for a couple of hours to find his 15-year-old son, Jules, dumping ice into a large pitcher. A box of tea was on the counter, and a kettle was heating up on the stovetop. Moffitt leaned against the cabinet, and cleared his throat. Jules froze in place. "Hi, Dad," he said sheepishly.

"Hello," Moffitt replied. "What are you doing?"

"Making… iced tea."

"Ah."

"It's too hot for regular tea."

"Nonsense. I've been drinking regular tea all day."

Jules smirked. "I know you possess a snake spirit, but I don't think you're actually cold-blooded, Dad."

"That is debatable." Anah, a supernatural Egyptian cobra, was lying on the table, almost entirely stretched out to keep cool. "Your father always complains about being too cold in the wintertime, and greatly enjoys the heat of the desert."

Moffitt's wife, Vanora, gave a sigh from the drawing room, where she was sewing up a hole in one of her shirts caused by an unruly rose thorn in the garden. "Jack, you can drink something else for one day. We don't need to bring you to the hospital for heatstroke, and have to explain to the doctor that you're too stubborn to drink something other than hot tea."

"You drink coffee in the morning," Moffitt said.

"Yes. In the morning, love. Not ten times a day."

"You're all being silly," Moffitt grumbled. "I'll have my tea the way it was bloody well meant to be."

Vanora, Jules, and Anah exchanged a look, and went back to what they were doing, ignoring Moffitt's mutterings about tea and the proper means of its consumption.

The telephone started ringing as Jules was adding water to the filter containing several tea bags. Moffitt took the phone off its hook. "Hello?"

"Good afternoon, Moffitt, I hope I'm not interrupting anything," said Dr. Millington, a researcher at Cambridge's zoology department who worked with snakes.

"No, we're all home, enjoying the nice weather. Is everything alright?"

"Well, I have a… an odd favor to ask you. My daughter's family is traveling to Italy for a vacation, and I'm heading to South Africa on a research assignment. Would you mind taking care of their dog for the next couple of weeks?"

Moffitt stood in stunned silence. "I… beg your pardon, but… what?"

"I said, my daughter's family is going to Italy, and I have to go to South Africa. Could you watch their dog?"

"Millington, am I really the only person you can think of to watch their dog?"

"Yes."

"You're bloody insane! You know I don't like dogs!"

"I think you'll get along just fine with this one. He's a very well-behaved husky."

"Well-behaved or not, I don't want it in my house!"

"Moffitt, please, I don't want the poor thing in a kennel for two weeks. You have a large property with plenty of space for him to run around."

Moffitt sighed heavily. "Fine, but the moment he becomes a problem, I'm sending him to Troy. They'll be a match made in heaven."

"I do appreciate you helping," Millington said. "If all goes well in South Africa, I might be bringing some snakes back with me, so there's that to look forward to."

"That's true, I suppose." Moffitt rubbed his face. "Alright, when is the bloody dog being dropped off."

"Tomorrow morning."

"Okay. I'll… see you then." Moffitt hung up the phone, and groaned aloud. "Vanora, Jules, Anah, we're going to have a guest for two weeks, and it's a blasted dog."

"Oh, you'll be fun for the next couple of weeks, then," Vanora said.

"It'll be here tomorrow, so I'm going to run into Cambridge and get some heavy-duty cleaning supplies."

"Why?"

"Because it's a dog. It's going to smell! And then my bloody house is going to smell like dog! Worse yet, it might consider the carpet a loo!"

"As long as you take it outside, it won't go on the carpet," Jules said.

"Oh, really? Then you are going to be in charge of making sure the bloody thing goes outside, and you're going to clean it up! I do not want dog droppings in my blasted yard!"

Jules sighed. "Dad, the horses go in the yard, and they make way more manure than a dog ever will."

"Horses are different."

"You clean up snake droppings at the university."

"Again, different. Snakes will only go once a week, maybe once a month depending on the species, not every bloody day."

"Jack, you're being silly," Vanora said. "A dog is not going to be this massive inconvenience that you're making it out to be. Stop yelling at your son."

Moffitt shook his head and kept grumbling to himself while putting a pair of shoes on to drive into town and get those cleaning supplies. He really didn't have a specific reason for disliking dogs. He was never bitten by one or charged by one. He just didn't see the appeal. They smelled, they were needy, and they got in the way of everything. The stray dog that followed him and the rest of the Rat Patrol around when they hijacked a German tank back during the war only proved his point. Hitch was injured trying to retrieve the dog, and Troy was stupid enough to make another attempt to save it when a beam fell on it. To make matters worse, the dog kept harassing poor Anah.

Oh, this bloody husky had better leave Anah alone, Moffitt thought while hunching over the steering wheel of his Land Rover. He parked outside a local pet supply shop, and tried to put a more pleasant expression on his face while going inside. He looked around at the myriad of things that anyone needed for any sort of companion animal in their life, but his gaze focused first on the bags of cat food. Why couldn't I be watching a cat? Or a bird? Or Millington's boa constrictor? I can at least have a conversation with his boa constrictor. With a sigh of despair, Moffitt picked up the appropriate cleaning materials, lamenting the fact that he wouldn't be spending two weeks with Millington's intelligent and cuddly boa, Severo.

He returned home to find a cup of tea waiting on the table. Vanora was putting her sewing supplies away, and Jules was in the parlor with a glass of iced tea and lemon-crème biscuits. Anah was wrapped around the kitchen sink faucet as cold water had recently been run from it.

"What is this?" Moffitt asked.

"That is a cup of tea," Anah said. "Given how you drink more tea than water, I am surprised you did not recognize it."

"Very funny, but who made it?"

"I did!" Jules called.

"Why?"

"Peace offering."

Guilt settled heavily in Moffitt's chest. "Was I really that mean to you?"

"No. Just thought it would make you less grumpy."

"Jules, until the dog leaves, your father is going to be extremely grumpy," Vanora said. "There's nothing we can do about it."

"I just don't know why Millington thought I was the best option to call," Moffitt said.

"He must've had no one else to go to, and he trusts you."

"But he knows I hate dogs!"

"Maybe you need to get over this hatred, love."

"Why?"

"No offense, Mum, but you know how stubborn Dad is," Jules said.

"I tried," Vanora sighed.

Moffitt set the bag of cleaning supplies on the table. "Just so everyone is aware, I want no part in interacting with this dog. I am not walking it, or cleaning up after it. That will be left up to you three."

"Jack," Vanora raised her voice slightly, "You're being very silly."

Jules groaned. "I'll take care of feeding and walking the dog. And cleaning up."

"Good, but if I find any dog droppings in my bloody yard, you're grounded," Moffitt said.

"Wow. Okay."

"You're not grounding him, Jack," Vanora said with another sigh. "Why don't you go take a ride? That should calm you down."

"You're probably right." Moffitt went into the bedroom to get changed into clothes more suitable for riding.

Out in the kitchen, Anah said, "How does he expect me to walk a dog?"

"Well, you could just ride the dog," Jules replied.

"Then your father will insist she needs a bath afterward," Vanora added.

"You say that like it is a bad thing," Anah said. "I do enjoy a good bath."

Moffitt left the bedroom, walking past his wife and his cobra without paying them much attention. He put on his riding boots and went outside to where the horses were going about their business in the pasture. Before finding his young dappled mare, Frostcloud, Moffitt took the garden hose and topped off the water trough. It was too hot for a lengthy ride full of running, and he wasn't looking for anything exciting anyway. He was just glad that horses were excellent listeners.

Frostcloud approached her rider curiously, greeting him with a nuzzle to his shoulder and turning her attention to the hose.

"Don't do it," Moffitt said. "No. I see that look in your eye. Don't take the hose. It's not a toy. No." When Frostcloud didn't pluck the hose from him and run off with it, Moffitt smiled. "Good girl, Frostcloud. Good girl." He turned the hose off, returned it to its proper place, and went back to get the horse. "We're going to take a little walk today." His smile faded once he and Frostcloud were in the stable, and he was getting her tack out. "We're going to have a visitor starting tomorrow. A blasted dog. Can't stand them. They're so much bloody work."

Frostcloud gave him a confused look as if to ask if Moffitt didn't realize how much work he put into her and the other horses.

"What?" Moffitt said, noticing the mare's expression. "Look, at least you're listening. My own wife, son, and Anah seem to think I'm being silly. Clearly, they've never been around dogs before. I've had the misfortune of having been so—including in a bloody warzone, and let me tell you, that creature did not make my job any easier, and it got Hitch shot! And then Troy risked getting shot in order to rescue the bloody thing. Idiots."

Frostcloud had dealt with Moffitt complaining before, but not like this. This was something else. It went on and on and on, throughout the duration of their ride in the countryside. She would look back at him as he continued his griping. What a terrible ride this was! So much so that Frostcloud didn't make Moffitt's dismount easy when they returned to the stable, and stepped away so he fell into the dirt.

Moffitt pulled himself up from the dirt, glaring at Frostcloud. "That wasn't funny." He sighed. "Just like your great-great-uncle Snowstripe." He took the horse's tack off to start cooling her down, then let her return to the pasture, making sure she stopped at the water trough first. He didn't feel nearly as relaxed as he was hoping, as the dread of tomorrow's visitor still hung heavily over him, like an anvil in a cartoon. When he went back in the house, he found Anah scooping ice cream into a bowl.

"Hello, dear," Anah said. "Did you have a nice ride?"

"Frostcloud could've been a little more cooperative, but it was alright," Moffitt replied. "Why are you scooping so much ice cream?"

"It is for Jules."

"No, put some back. He'll get sick eating all that. You really need to stop trying to overfeed us."

Anah held out a big spoonful of ice cream with her tail. "Fine. You have this."

"I don't want it."

"Please?"

"No."

Anah looked immensely disappointed while putting the ice cream back in the carton. She compensated for having less ice cream in the bowl by dropping several generously heaping spoonfuls of hot fudge on it, along with a mound of chopped hazelnuts, and two cherries.

Moffitt sighed. "You just can't help yourself, can you?"

"No. I want you all to be happy," Anah replied. She telekinetically brought the bowl out to the parlor.

Vanora came out of the laundry room, holding an empty basket. "Are you in a better mood, Jack?"

"Not really," Moffitt said. "I probably won't be until this blasted dog leaves."

"The dog isn't even here yet."

"No, but I still have to spend the next eighteen hours dreading its arrival."

Vanora sighed. "I really don't think you'll have anything to worry about. It's not even like you have a specific reason to dislike dogs. Millington knows that. You don't have a fear of them, you were never bitten by one—"

"They make terrible companions."

"Jack, people have been keeping dogs for thousands of years."

"I am well aware of that. That doesn't mean they're a good companion for me. I will tolerate this dog, but that's it. Don't expect me to fall in love with it."

Moffitt's stomach was knotted with dread in the morning. He stared at his cup of tea. This was it. He knew he needed to enjoy this moment while it lasted, because soon, he wasn't going to be able to enjoy a cup of tea for the next couple of weeks without it being full of fur. The wonderful smell of freshly brewed tea would be replaced with the foul smell of dog. The peace and quiet would be replaced with incessant barking. Moffitt sighed heavily before picking up his cup. Why, Millington? Why did you have to pick me? He drank his tea, and tried to think positive.

"I see Millington's car, Dad," Jules said.

"I'm not even done with my tea!" Moffitt groaned.

"Do you want me to tell him that he has to sit out there for the next hour?"

Moffitt put his head in his hands. "No. Let me get dressed, and then I'll go greet him." He took a last sip, and tried to savor it before going into the bedroom to change out of his nightclothes.

Vanora was in the room, straightening the bed. She glanced up when her husband closed the door. "Are you okay, Jack?"

"Millington's already here, with the blasted dog," Moffitt said. "I'm getting dressed and then greeting him. First, I want a kiss before we have to worry about—" He shuddered. "Dog hair."

"I don't think it'll be as bad as you think it's going to be."

"Dog hair is always bad."

"We'll keep the house clean. Stop worrying so much."

"Does that mean no kiss?" Moffitt tilted his head and gave Vanora a sad look.

"Oh, no, that face isn't going to work. You were being very silly yesterday."

Moffitt took off his bathrobe, revealing he was only wearing shorts underneath. "Now?"

Vanora sighed. "Can you at least try to be a little less dramatic about the dog?"

"I'll try."

"Promise?"

"I'm not sure I can make that a promise."

Vanora folded her arms over her chest, then gave Moffitt a kiss. "Alright. Put some clothes on and go greet Millington."

"Thank you, darling. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Moffitt put on a pair of trousers and a short-sleeved shirt that he typically reserved for working in the stable. Stuff that was used to being dirty. He had a feeling he would need it. When he went back out to the kitchen, a dull ache suddenly enveloped his chest as he looked out the window and saw Jules greeting a pretty black and white Siberian husky. Jules looked quite happy with the dog's affection, and the dog seemed happy with Jules. Moffitt wasn't sure how to feel about that.

He put his work boots on before heading outside, glaring down at the husky as he walked by. The dog turned to look up at him, sitting and smiling with its tongue lolling out.

Jules was grinning. "Dad, this is River. Go ahead, pet him. He's so soft."

"No, thank you," Moffitt said.

"Alright, suit yourself."

Moffitt grunted before walking over to Millington, who was holding a bag containing various dog-related supplies. "Good morning," Moffitt said, struggling to look pleasant.

"Sorry I'm a bit early," Millington replied. "One of the researchers I'm going to South Africa with invited me for coffee before we catch our flight."

"That's… fine." Moffitt sighed.

"Well, at least Jules and River seem to be getting along perfectly." Millington held out the bag. "River's leash, food and water dish, and a few other things. I have bags of food in the back of my car. If you have to buy more, I'll pay you back."

Moffitt was stunned upon seeing the heavy-looking bags in the back of Millington's car. "Where am I going to bloody store this?!"

"They're not that bad. I'll help." Millington picked up one of the bags and led Moffitt inside, where Moffitt noticed that Anah was perched by the sink, rinsing fruit.

"Is this… River… going to be a problem for Anah?" Moffitt asked.

"No. He knows not to bother Severo."

"Severo is a big boa, though. Anah's small."

"She's also a cobra. Standing with her hood up should be enough to deter River from playing too rough with her."

Moffitt glared at Millington. "This furry behemoth will not be 'playing' with my Anah. She was already seriously injured last year, and I won't have it happen again."

Now it was Millington's turn to sigh. "I know your thoughts on dogs, and I'm only going to say once that River is not stupid, undisciplined, or foul-smelling. This is only for two weeks, Moffitt. Please."

"I'm only doing this because we're friends, but I can promise that I will never want to do this again."

"Fine. I'll see you in two weeks. Good luck." Millington turned to leave.

As the older doctor's car left the driveway, Moffitt stood on the doorstep and watched Jules playing with River. Millington had given Jules a beat-up-looking rubber blue ball, and the boy was throwing it so the husky could sprint after it. Moffitt had once heard someone say that every boy should have a dog growing up, and Moffitt firmly disagreed, saying a horse was a better choice. A horse instilled more self-discipline, patience, and personal responsibility. Of course, he was told a dog could instill the same thing, but he didn't want to hear it.

He went back into the house, pausing by Anah as she scooped raspberries out of a colander and into a big metal bowl. "Well? What do you think?"

"What do I think about what?" Anah asked.

"The dog."

"I have not had a chance to see the dog. I am making a raspberry cobbler." Anah picked up a raspberry with her tail and handed it to Moffitt. "You have not had breakfast, have you? Eat something. That will help you think clearer."

Moffitt put the raspberry in his mouth before picking up his cup of tea from the table. "Bloody thing is cold," he muttered.

"Complaining about it will not warm it up."

"You shush."

"Am I wrong? Make a new cup, dear."

As Moffitt started putting a fresh cup of tea together, Vanora came out of the parlor. "Huskies are adorable," she said. "I'm so glad we'll be watching one, and Jules seems to be having fun." She paused when she saw her husband's expression. "Let me guess, you're not happy."

"I wouldn't say I'm not happy. I'm just disappointed," Moffitt said.

"Why are you disappointed, Jack?"

"Because I am."

"I think he is just hungry," Anah said.

"You might be right," Vanora replied. "He does get extra grumpy when he's hungry."

Moffitt bit his tongue. "You know, I would really appreciate you two not treating this like one big bloody joke."

"It's really hard when you have absolutely no reason to be so upset about this," Vanora said. "I happen to think this is going to be fun. Besides, it's not like the dog's going to be staying forever."

"Then I'm glad you think this is going to be fun! You and Jules can take care of it! I want no part in this!"

"Jack—"

"No. I've made my position very clear. I will give this animal shelter from the elements. I will make sure it's fed, kept clean, and kept healthy, but you and Jules are in charge of actually interacting with it."

"You really are being silly—"

"How many bloody times have I told you that damn dog in North Africa nearly got Hitch and Troy killed?!"

"That doesn't mean every dog on the face of the Earth is going to do the same thing. You're being ridiculous, Jack, and you've mentioned that you disliked dogs even before you enlisted."

"That incident made it worse."

Vanora sighed. "Fine. I'm done arguing with you. I'll be in the garden if you need me."

Silence fell over the house after Vanora stormed outside. Moffitt looked down at Anah, who held out another raspberry with her tail. He didn't take it, and took his tea into the parlor. He was content with just reading for the next few hours, and occasionally looked up from his book to see Jules with River. Eventually, he spotted Vanora with the dog as well, and couldn't help feeling somewhat lonely.

As if she sensed it, Anah came slithering out into the parlor, a bowl with a generous helping of raspberry cobbler floating above her. She set the bowl on the coffee table, and climbed up to Moffitt's lap. She said nothing, and stretched up to nuzzle Moffitt's chin. He sighed before stroking her and kissing the top of her head. "Thanks, Anah."

"You are most welcome, dear," the cobra replied. "Admittedly, I do think you are overreacting, but I am curious if there is a root to this problem."

"There really isn't. I've never liked dogs. My father had friends with dogs training for foxhunting, and they were always… a bit much. Their homes smelled, the dogs were loud. I always felt intimidated, I hated the feeling of being licked, and I never understood the appeal of dogs."

"It still sounds like a bad experience was part of what started this."

"It wasn't truly terrible, but maybe the fact that I was just left alone with a pack of juvenile beagles still learning discipline made it bad for eight-year-old me."

"That does make sense. Perhaps this experience with River will start to change your mind."

"Maybe." Moffitt looked out the window at his wife and son clearly enjoying the company of the dog. "I'll always prefer the company of snakes and horses, though."

"Yes, you do not have to change that, but we can help make your reaction to dogs a little less… hostile."

"I'll try, but it'll be a hard habit to break." Moffitt nuzzled Anah again before picking up the bowl she brought to enjoy his cobbler.

A half-hour passed before the front door opened and Moffitt heard the jingling of a dog's collar tags and the clicking of nails on the hardwood floor of the kitchen.

"We both need water," Jules said, breathing heavily. "I'll get you water. Where's your dish… oh, there it is."

Moffitt had been lying down with a book, and Anah was coiled up on his stomach, but he sat up as soon as he heard the noisy lapping of the husky drinking. "Put a mat down, Jules! I don't want dog water all over the bloody kitchen!"

Jules sighed. "We don't have a mat, Dad."

"Use a towel, then!"

"We talked about this, dear," Anah said.

"I still want to minimize the damage done to my house."

Anah gave a quiet sigh of her own before putting her head back down.

"Sorry, I have to take your water for a second," Jules was saying. "Stay… Good boy. Alright, here." He poked his head into the parlor. "Towel's down, Dad."

"Thank you," Moffitt replied. "Close the door to my bedroom, please. I don't want the dog in there."

"Uh… okay."

"Thank you again."

Things went quiet for a moment, then Moffitt noticed something black and white loping into the parlor. River seemed interested in everything, as it was all new to him. Moffitt watched the dog closely. "Don't touch anything on my desk," he muttered.

At the sound of Moffitt's voice, River walked over to the couch, smiling at the lanky Englishman.

Moffitt wanted to sink into the couch as the dog got closer. "No. No, no, no, no. No, please, do not sniff me. Do not sniff me. I don't want your nasty wet nose on me. And no licking, either! Ugh, dog breath."

River turned his attention to Anah when the cobra raised her head a little. Moffitt flinched and pressed against the back of the couch when River came close to touching his nose to Moffitt's shirt. Anah glanced at him before looking back at the husky. She flicked out her forked tongue to get the dog's scent, and remained in a calm posture, without hissing or flaring her hood. She only did so when it looked like River wanted to pick up her coils in his mouth, and relaxed once he got the message that she didn't want that.

"He really isn't bad," Anah said. "He can take cues."

"Could you two please sniff each other somewhere that isn't on top of my stomach, though?" Moffitt asked.

Anah crawled over to Moffitt's chest, River following her. "There."

"That's… not what I meant." Moffitt sighed.

"But we are no longer on top of your stomach, just like you wanted."

"Stop being wise, Anah. And the dog is getting too close to my face."

"The dog has a name."

"I don't particularly care."

"Well, would you rather have River close to your face, or both of us crowding on your tummy?"

"I want neither."

"Fine." Anah slithered off of Moffitt, leading River out into the kitchen.

Usually, reading alone wouldn't be so bad, but Moffitt was greatly disappointed that everyone was far more interested in the dog now. He tried to turn his attention to his book, but couldn't help dreading how the next two weeks were going to turn out.

"Please, get out of the way," Moffitt grumbled as he tried to step over River while getting his tea ready.

Jules crouched down. "River! Come here, boy!" The husky eagerly went over to him. "Let's get your dinner ready, alright?"

"Put his dishes in a spot that sees the least traffic," Moffitt said.

"Okay, Dad."

"Vanora, could I have another leek, please?" Anah asked.

"Sure." Vanora handed Anah the leek. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, thank you." Anah placed the leek on her cutting board before swiftly chopping it with a large knife.

Jules scooped a serving of dry dog food into River's dish, then left the husky alone to eat. "Dinner smells good, Anah."

"Thank you, dear," Anah replied. "Pan-seared chicken with a homemade cream sauce—with extra garlic—and a side of fried potatoes. For dessert, I am making cheesecake with a mixed berry topping."

"You made raspberry cobbler earlier today," Moffitt said.

"So? That was a snack for everyone. This is dessert."

"It all sounds good, Anah," Vanora said. "Are you sure you don't want any help?"

"I am positive." Anah added the chopped leek to the pot of sauce on the stovetop.

Moffitt took the kettle as it began whistling, and poured hot water into his mug. After setting his mug somewhere it wouldn't be disturbed, he turned to see Jules's long and lanky form crouching by River. "You've taken care of Nightrunner today, right?" Moffitt asked.

"Of course I did," Jules replied. "River's so well-behaved around the horses." He grinned before giving River a scratch behind the ears. "You're such a good boy, yes, you are. I'll even let you come with me on my ride tomorrow morning."

"Glad you two are getting along," Moffitt muttered.

"Jack, stop," Vanora sighed. "River's done nothing terrible since he got here."

Moffitt wasn't sure what to say in response. He kept quiet, figuring nothing he could say would be helpful.

"Dears, you need to communicate," Anah said.

"This isn't complicated. Jack needs to stop being so dramatic about the dog," Vanora replied. "I'm not dealing with him complaining for two whole weeks."

"Shutting him out and dismissing him as silly will not solve anything. He just needs to have positive interactions with River—"

"How can he when all he's doing is complaining?"

"You acting like his thoughts are not valid will not allow him to change his mind about River."

"There's nothing valid about his constant griping! That's all it is! Griping!"

Anah was quiet for a moment. She stayed calm. "Maybe you should take a moment to clear your mind, Vanora. I will talk with you when we can have a moment alone. Have a seat. Dinner is almost ready."

Dinner was far too quiet. Moffitt was stunned at how Vanora had shut him out. She was normally open to listening to him when he was upset about something. This was different, and he was disappointed that she wouldn't explain why. Surely, that would explain her feelings.

The house became quiet in the evening. Moffitt took his shower and was going to prepare his nighttime tea when he saw Jules in the kitchen, leaning against the wall with the telephone to his ear. Moffitt knew to leave him alone when he heard Jules say, "Hey, Esther. Is Dietrich available? I… need someone to talk to."

Before he turned away, Moffitt noticed River was sitting by Jules, his fluffy black and white head rested against Jules's left leg. Just sitting there, not jumping up or licking Jules's hand or trying to get the boy to play with him. The husky was even looking up at Jules with an expression that resembled concern in his ice-blue eyes.

A leaden feeling of shame and sadness settled in Moffitt's stomach. He peered into the parlor, seeing Anah wrapped around Vanora's left arm while she stared down at a photo album. The cobra was speaking too quietly for Moffitt to hear.

This is all my fault, Moffitt thought. He had largely been free of constant feelings of guilt since the previous year, but this really did feel like his fault. No one would be upset if he had just stopped complaining about hosting a dog. No one would be upset if he just listened to Vanora and Anah and Millington. No, I just had to be stubborn and keep arguing. He decided to forego his tea and turn in early for the night. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Maybe tomorrow he could start trying to change.