Secrets & Lies

Chapter Five

(Leo's POV)

Two days.

It's been two whole days and already, I've gone completely insane with worry. All these questions are running round and round in my head. Where is she? Is she hurt? Did she make it back to her family ok? Are those injuries, that seemed perfectly fine two days ago, bothering her?

Does she miss me?

Does she miss me? Where the hell did that come from?

I groan at myself in frustration and pull a pillow over my head. What the hell is wrong with me lately? I'm like a lovesick puppy.

"Leo," I say to myself, as I climb out of bed. "She's a wolf. She's fine. She is most definitely not thinking about you. Grow up, man."

After giving myself my little pep talk, I make my way downstairs to the kitchen, clad only in my pajama bottoms. I switch on the coffee machine, yawning as I do.

Why am I so tired? Oh, yeah, because I was awake for half the night, worrying about a freaking wolf!

I pop some bread in the toaster and sit patiently at the breakfast bar, waiting for my breakfast to present itself. The house is silent; too silent. It's been like this for the last few months; since the day Sandy left.

Twenty minutes later, I'm walking across the yard from my house, to the surgery. The cold October wind sent chills along the back of my neck. I really should have wrapped up more. I fumble with the keys in the lock as Sarah pulls into the driveway.

"Morning," she calls.

"Morning. It's a cold one this morning, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I think we may start lighting the fires soon," she replies.

Sarah loves open fires. She constantly tells me the fire in the surgery is by far her favorite. I guess I can see where she comes from.

Apart from the fact that it's a bit bigger in size, the surgery is an exact replica of a wood cabin that you'd find up a mountain in the middle of nowhere. With its warm wooden floors and similar walls, the surgery, unlike most veterinary clinics around, offers a homier feel. When the fire beside the reception desk is lit, it throws out the most comforting heat into the room.

"Give it a week or two before you decide to light it," I chuckle.

We make our way into the cluttered reception. Papers are strewn all across the desk; empty mugs are left beside the once visible computer keyboard. The windowsills are cluttered with unpaid bills, broken pens, dog toys and several long cat hairs. Each step on the stairs leading to the upstairs store is occupied by either a bag of animal food, be it dog food, cat food or even rabbit food, or a box filled with some type of medication for one of the many species of animal treated in the clinic.

"Well," Sarah sighs, placing down her bag and looking around the chaos that once was the clean reception area. "I think we both know what's on my to-do list for the morning. I dread to think what the other rooms are like."

"Don't worry, I'll help you. The first appointment is at half eleven, so that means I have," I pause to look at my watch. "Just under two and a half hours to help."

"Well then, let's get started. I'll make a start on all this paperwork," she says, indicating towards the mountain of paper that was pretty much taking over most of the room.

"Okay, I'll try to sort out the store room," I say, making my way towards the stairs to tackle the mess that is there.

Once I have the stairs cleared, I can evaluate the condition of the storeroom.