“No, listen,” he said. “Wait, were you really asleep?”
“Kind of.”
“So I went to go check up on Aunt Taylor,” he said.
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“That’s sweet,” I said, guiltily realizing that I should have done the same. She had been understandably distraught over Button’s death.
“No, but listen,” he said. “Aunt Taylor thinks it was Royella.”
“Why?”
“Well, she’s not sure why.”
He recounted how he had found Aunt Taylor in her room, quietly staring out the window. When they began to talk about Button, she had become emotional and confessed that she had planned her long stay this summer largely out of concern for Dad but that she never would have come if she thought her dog would be a casualty.
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