Evelyn woke to the soft gray light of early morning filtering through her curtains. She stretched beneath the covers, then turned her head toward the far side of the bed. Empty. The massive black dog was no longer there.
She sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from her eyes, and spotted him at the window. He stood perfectly still, front paws resting on the wide sill, staring out into the quiet street below. The early light outlined his powerful frame and the thick black fur along his back.
"Morning," she said, voice still husky from sleep.
Dog turned his head just enough to look at her. His blue eyes met hers for a brief second, then he turned back to the window without a sound.
"Right," Evelyn muttered, swinging her legs out of bed. "Not a morning person. Got it."
