“Shh, sweet girl,” I whisper, holding a finger to my lips. “Don’t wake him up, okay?”
She tilts her head, her tail stilling as she watches me pull on a thick, oversized knit cardigan hanging over the back of the vanity chair. I slide my feet into my sheepskin slippers, gently smoothing a hand over Xena’s soft, dense coat.
She leans into the touch, her warm body pressing against my shin as she follows at my heel like a phantom when I ease the bedroom door open and slip out into the hall, leaving Locke to his well-earned rest.
Xena pads softly behind me as I walk into the kitchen.
I don't turn on the bright overhead lights; the ambient glow of the city lights is more than enough to guide my way. I fill a small saucepan with milk, turn the stove burner on low, and scoop dark cocoa powde
