He Gave Me Hearing, Then Taught Me What Silence Really Means novel Chapter 92

Juniper heard his voice too and scrambled deeper into the car.

But even if she were reduced to ashes, Nelson Saint would still recognize her.

"Juniper?"

Josie blinked, looking from the retreating car to the spot where the dog had been.

Juniper was safely inside and immediately told the driver to go.

Nelson stood tall beneath his large black umbrella, his dark eyes fixed coldly on the departing vehicle.

It finally dawned on Josie that the woman was Juniper. She shrank back, a wave of fear washing over her.

She was terrified her mother would find out she had spoken to her.

She was terrified her mother would learn she had followed Juniper for blocks.

So, she burst into loud, theatrical tears.

Nelson suppressed a surge of irritation. He crouched down to look at the miserably crying child and gently tapped her nose. "What are you crying for now? I haven't even scolded you yet."

"Daddy, promise me you won't see that bad woman anymore, okay? I hate her."

What did a four-year-old child really understand about hate?

Nelson took her small hand, his tone dangerously neutral. "Why do you hate her?"

"She bit you, and she hit you."

A large umbrella shielding a small one—it painted a deceptively heartwarming picture.

Nelson pulled her into a hug and let out a low chuckle. "Kids don't know anything."

The image of a bedraggled Juniper flashed through his mind, and that familiar, gnawing frustration returned.

Because she had already been climbing into the car and had tossed her crutch in first, he hadn't noticed her injured leg.

All he saw was her soaking wet, dragging along some random stray dog.

She always managed to end up looking so pathetic over the most inexplicable things.

She fell completely silent for a long moment, her voice cracking when she finally spoke. "Really? Juniper, you're not lying to me?"

She sounded as though she was on the verge of tears.

No one understood what Milo meant to her.

Taking a deep breath, she turned and rushed to her car. "I'll be right there. You better not be playing some sick joke on me, or I swear I will never forgive you."

Her voice trembled with naked emotion.

Juniper could hear just how fiercely Zoe loved that dog.

It took less than twenty minutes for Zoe to arrive.

Milo's wounds were bandaged. His fur was still a bit damp, but the moment he saw her, his tail began to thump excitedly against the exam table.

His movements weren't as spry as they used to be, but he greeted his owner with total, unconditional devotion.

Zoe broke down. She ran over, buried her face in the dog's neck, and sobbed uncontrollably.