Maybe it’s the fact that I’d slept until three in the afternoon the day before. But after a hopeless hour and a half, I decide to get out of bed. I tip-toe to the kitchen.
I spot a kettle and turn it on. A cup of chamomile might help me get to sleep.
I’m pouring the hot water when I hear a floorboard creak behind me. I spin around—and find Amanda’s dog staring up at me.
I don’t move. I don’t know how the dog feels about strangers, least of all ones his owner obviously dislikes. The retriever considers me for a long moment… then wags his tail and pads over to the fridge. It sits down, then paws at the metal door and makes a sad, whimpering sound.
I walk over to the dog, still cautious. Carefully, I kneel down at his side. He turns his head to look at me. He seems gentle enough. I reach out and put a hand between his ears. “You’ve got a beautiful coat,” I say softly.
The retriever surprises me by giving a happy yelp and licking my face. I’m so shocked I lose my balance and stumble back. Then I laugh.
“Aww, you’re just a big softie, aren’t you?” I coo, going on my knees to give the dog a thorough rub down. “What’s your name?” I hold up the tag on its collar. The word STEEL is etched in caps on the metal. “Steel, huh? So you’re a boy, I take it?” He growls. “Sorry. A man.”
That seems to appease Steel. He nuzzles at my fingers. “Well, you’re not scary at all when you’re being all friendly like this,” I tell him, rubbing his head, neck, and belly. “What are you doing up so late?”
He makes another whimpering noise and looks to the fridge. “Oooh. I get it. You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
He lets out a small bark. I put my fingers to my lips and shush him. “Shh,” I whisper. “Amanda probably doesn’t want you eating late.” I look back at the empty kitchen and the dark hall outside. “But she’s not around, is she?” Another whimpering sound. “Okay. Tell you what, Steel.” I shake my head. “That’s a terrible name, by the way.” I grin at him. “But it’s not your fault your owner’s a moron, is it? No, not your fault at all.”
I emphasize the last word by rubbing him even more vigorously. He seems to like it. “Okay, so if you promise not to tell—” I make a point of holding his muzzle between my hands and looking him straight in the eye, “—I might be willing to bend a few rules for you. If you behave.” I stand up. “Do you know any commands? Sit!”
To my surprise, his hind legs fold under him and his rear hits the floor. “Very good!” I praise. “What else can you do? Um… roll over?”
Steel doesn’t move. He just hangs out his tongue and looks very adorable. I giggle. “You know, I always wished I had a dog growing up. Of course, they didn’t allow pets at the orphanage—”
“You grew up in an orphanage?”
I spin around. Amanda is standing in the doorway, wearing nothing more than a white, semi-translucent gown. “Amanda!” I exclaim. “What are you doing here?”
She gives me an odd look before walking through the door. “It’s my house, isn’t it? Aren’t I allowed to be here?” She opens the pantry door and takes out a big bag of dog food. Steel goes to her right away. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh.” I look down at my feet. “Yeah, I guess so.” As much as I can, I try to avoid mentioning that aspect of my past to people I meet. I’m not ashamed of it. I just found it impossible to predict how people would react. Some would start doling out all kinds of fake sympathy—as if they really knew what not having any parents was like. Others would instantly change their impression of me, making me feel like I’d become some kind of second-class citizen in the blink of an eye.
That fake sympathy was always the worst.
Amanda, however, does neither of those things. She just intones, “Hmm,” as she pours the brown pebbles into a bowl. Steel starts munching it right away. “So I take it you don’t know your parents?”
“No.” I don’t want to talk about my family, least of all with Amanda. I take my cup and turn around. “I was just going back to bed—”
“I never knew my mom,