Rain ruins everything. My ears, the sidewalk, my mood. The widow’s apartment smelled like damp paper and secrets. While Eloise rambles about wisdom and statues with broken noses, I sit where my nose tells me something is very, very wrong.
Floor. Desk. That spot.
Eloise notices, because she always notices when I sit still. My trusty nose tells me to open the desk drawer. Bloodstained papers. The widow goes quiet. Must be important. Thunder cracks.
I shake water everywhere. Eloise sighs. Calls me her lucky charm. I accept a treat.
Luck is just paying attention, but humans like fancy words.
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