My hands went still on the keyboard. For a second, my body forgot what to do with itself.
He looked different. There was something weathered in his face that hadn't been there before, a hardness in his jaw that was new. But his eyes were the same. Dark and careful, seeing too much.
"Sorry," he said in a quiet and measured tone. "I didn't mean to?—"
He stopped, cleared his throat.
"I'm here to drop off the rabies reporting forms. Sheriff's office needs the clinic to update quarterly." He held up the folder slightly. "Dr. Whitaker."
I stood up. Had to do something with my hands, with my body, with the sudden tension running through me.
"Right," I said. "The forms. You can leave them on the desk."
He moved forward, three steps, no more, and set the folder down carefully.
"Sheriff Davis said to make sure you have the updated schedule too," he said. "State inspection protocols changed. New requirements for documentation."
I nodded.
He stepped back immediately, giving me space.
Daisy wandered out from the exam room, tail wagging. She went straight to him, sniffing his boots, looking up with that open, trusting expression she gave everyone. He glanced down at her briefly, then back at me.
"I wanted to say…" He stopped, looked down. "I know this is strange. Me being back. I don't want to make things difficult for you. It's just, my mom..."
"I know about your mom." My voice softened despite myself. "Mrs. Patterson told me. I'm sorry, Matt. That's… that’s hard."
Something flickered across his face. Surprise, maybe.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
We stood there for a moment. The silence wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't hostile either. Just two people who used to know each other, trying to figure out how to exist in the same small town.
"It's your town too," I said finally. "You don't have to apologize for being here."
He looked at me for a long moment. Then he nodded.
"If you have questions about the forms, you can call the station," he said. "They'll help you out."
"Okay."
"Thanks for your time."
Then he was gone.
I stood there, staring at the folder on the desk. Daisy nudged my hand with her nose, and I crouched down to scratch behind her ears.
"It's fine," I told her. "We're fine."
I wasn't sure which one of us I was trying to convince.
I stood back up, picked up the folder, and got back to work.
CHAPTER 22: MATT
Caleb's truck pulled up at noon on Saturday, exactly on time.
I'd changed my shirt twice. Put on earrings, then took them off. Daisy had watched the whole thing from the couch, head tilted like she was trying to understand what the problem was.
