After what seemed like an eternity of
agonising silence, Rick said “I suppose we should check on the dogs.”
I swear, I have never loved one
normal sentence as much as that one.
The next few hours were spent
cleaning out kennels, brushing dogs and other such jobs. We didn’t talk much,
but the silence was different from the earlier one. This was a comfortable
silence, a silence that meant more than forced conversation. I was gradually
calming down after the confession about my past. I still couldn’t believe that
I’d told him. I wondered how he felt about it. His addictions, depression and
suicidal tendencies had been blatantly obvious since he got here, but the
canine department was severely short of staff, they couldn’t afford to lose the
best they had. Because despite his troubles, you couldn’t deny that Rick gave
that job every amount of effort.
Eventually I said “Devin will be
looking for me, I think I’ll go now.”
“Okay. And Tara?
“I won’t tell anyone. I swear I won’t
Everything was okay. He wasn’t going
to ever tell anyone about my past. I know that I shouldn’t believe that. Humans
are normally incapable of keeping secrets. But for some reason the words had
meaning. I knew that the secret of my childhood of abuse was safe.
I walked back down to the engineering
labs, where Devin was.