Dawn's POV
Sunday Morning — 7:15 a.m.
Something was wrong.
Silence.
No cartoons. No dinosaurs roaring. No thirteen-year-old asking what we had to eat.
And, most suspiciously, no Pink breathing directly into my face.
I glanced at the clock.
Seven fifteen.
On a Sunday.
With four children in my house.
"Well, that's concerning."
I climbed out of bed and checked Ana's room.
She and Maddox were still asleep beneath separate blankets, a collection of dinosaurs scattered between them.
Pink lay beside the bed.
"Morning, beautiful," I whispered.
Her tail thumped.
Next, Evan's room.
I opened the door and stopped.
Two teenage boys. One bed. Enough blankets to survive an Alaskan winter.
And snack wrappers.
So many snack wrappers.
Evan was sprawled diagonally across the mattress whi
