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“Jenna said. Is everything okay?”

“Fine.”

Lauren had heard Carly say fine plenty of ways by now: clipped, dry, defensive, amused. This one was flat, like a road with nothing on it for miles.

By the laptop lay a glossy brochure and Carly’s phone, both upside down. The phone buzzed against the wood. Carly didn’t glance at it.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Lauren said. “About Berkeley.”

Carly’s attention sharpened.

Plainly, Lauren told herself. No pitch.

“I’d like to foster him,” she said. “If you’d let me. If it would help.”

Carly didn’t say yes. She didn’t say no. She rubbed the back of her neck and looked anywhere else. The laptop. The brochure. The window, where a crow sat on the fence by the bins and stared back.

Lauren had promised herself she wouldn’t fill the silence.

She lasted about four seconds.

“It wouldn’t have to be permanent,” Lauren continued. “I just thought it might help until things settle down. He already knows me, so he wouldn’t be going to a stranger.”

Carly’s eyes flicked to her, then away again.

“And I’ve got the garden,” Lauren heard herself add. “It’s fully fenced, I checked the back corner where the panel was loose, I’ve fixed it. I’m only five minutes from here, so I can pop back at lunch. I’ve still got Reggie’s old crate in the loft if he needs somewhere to—”

She stopped. This wasn’t a question anymore.

The phone buzzed again. Carly flinched, very slightly, and didn’t turn it over.

Eventually, she spoke.

“I’ll figure something out.”

Four words. Not angry. Said to the window, not to Lauren.

And Lauren heard everything she’d been afraid of in them. No. Not you. I’ve watched you hide my boots and get high behind the clubhouse, and you think I’m handing you my father’s dog? She heard the dog walk again: the apology laid out in the frost, and a polite thank you and the back of Carly’s head.

And underneath that, worse, she heard Sunday night. The lamplight, and the moment Carly pulled away. I’m glad we’re friends. She’d spent four days telling herself friends was good. Friends was more than she’d ever expected. Now she understood. Carly hadn’t wanted anything from her that night, and she didn’t want anything now. Not even help with the dog.

Why would she trust Lauren with something that important?

“Forget I said anything,” Lauren said.

It came out too bright. She stood so fast the chair scraped.

Carly turned from the window. “It’s a kind offer.”

Lauren waited for the rest. The but. Anything she could take away and make sense of later. But my sister’s already sorted something. But my dad’s not ready.

It didn’t come. Carly had gone back to the window and the crow, which were apparently easier to look at.

“No worries,” Lauren said. “Honestly. It was a silly idea. You’ve obviously got it all in hand.”

Carly opened her mouth. Shut it again.

“Right.” Lauren backed towards the door, making herself easy to forget. “I’ll let you get on. I’ve got a client at two. Hamstrings. Not yours. Obviously.” She was babbling. She knew she was babbling. “Anyway. Good luck with… everything. See you Sunday, mate.”