Chapter 4

The next morning, I wake up to a dog barking.

Sophie's trying to unlatch Bowie's crate.

I say, "He's not stable right now. Better to leave him in there."

She waves me off, still working the latch.

"He's fine. He's such a good boy."

She keeps going. My chest tightens.

"I already told you—he loses control easily. If you let him out and something happens, are you gonna take responsibility?"

Sophie flinches at my tone. Ryan comes out of the bedroom.

"What's the problem this early? Can you not do the attitude thing every single morning?"

I don't answer. I grab my running clothes off the chair and head out for a jog.

When I get back, I see the mess in the yard from a block away.

I already know.

She let him out anyway.

Bowie was too wound up—she couldn't hold him. He tore through the open door and bit some poor woman's little dog on the walking trail.

Sophie stands in the yard, helpless. Ryan holds the leash in one hand and the other on the small of her back, rubbing gentle circles.

"Don't worry, I've got you."

Then he turns and walks toward me.

"The other dog barely got hurt, but the owner is trying to shake us down."

I try to walk past him.

"Not my problem. You two handle it."

He blocks me.

"Your dog. Your responsibility."

I laugh in his face.

"Now he's my dog?"

Sophie sidles over, head down, knowing she was in the wrong.

"Mia, I know I messed up. I'm sorry. But Bowie's yours—you know him best. Please."

Two grown adults, and neither can own up to a thing.

But owner is a word that traps me. I can't leave a hurt dog sitting there.

So in the rain, I take the injured pup to the vet. I negotiate a payout with the owner. I fill out the paperwork.

By the time it's done, it's dark. I'm soaked to the bone.

I drag myself back to the cabin.

They're on the couch. Bowie between them. A movie playing. Snacks everywhere.

Cozy. Happy. Warm.

It makes my blood boil.

Sophie waves at me, cheerful.

"You made it. Come grab a snack."

I reach for the last bag. Bowie snatches it out of my hand.

Sophie just laughs. "Little piggy."

Ryan tosses a towel at me from the couch.

"Well, today's plan is shot. What are we doing tomorrow?"

I don't hide it. "I don't know. Whatever you want."

Ryan's face tightens. He raises his voice.

"What's with you? You're supposed to be handling the itinerary. Are we just gonna wander around aimlessly because you're in a mood?"

Sophie stops him, giggling.

"Don't pick fights with her. She's the one with the keys. Piss her off and she'll leave you on the side of the road."

Ryan smirks.

"She wouldn't dare. Not in a million years."

I slam the bedroom door and shut them out.

Three people on this trip. They planned nothing, and complained about every stop.

We were supposed to take turns driving. Every time it was their turn, they had an excuse. I did every mile.

The two of them, sitting pretty for photos. Neither of them even knew how to book a train ticket.

Fine.

I'm done playing along.