Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Corey had been managing a delicate balancing act for over a week, and so far, nothing had gone catastrophically wrong.
The key was routine. Wake up at five-thirty to take Presti out before anyone else was awake.
Quick walk, breakfast, playtime to tire him out.
Crate him at seven with a frozen Kong toy.
Race home during his lunch break to let him out.
Back to school. Home by four to a wiggling, overjoyed puppy who acted like Corey had been gone for years instead of hours.
It was exhausting. It was complicated. And Corey had never felt more alive.
The close call with Mrs. Smith had happened on Tuesday during his lunch break. He'd been hurrying up the back stairs with Presti on a leash when he'd heard her voice from the floor below.
"Corey? Is that you?"
He'd frozen, one foot on the landing, Presti tugging at the leash to investigate an interesting smell.
"Hi, Mrs. Smith!" he'd called down, keeping his voice light while gently pulling Presti back from the railing where he'd be visible. "Just grabbing lunch!"
"In such a hurry these days," she'd replied, her voice carrying up the stairwell. "You young people."
Corey had made it inside his apartment with his heart pounding, only to realize Presti had somehow acquired a pinecone during the brief outdoor excursion and was now parading around with it like a trophy.
"You're going to get me evicted," Corey had told the puppy, who responded by flopping onto his back for belly rubs.
That had been three days ago, and Corey had been even more careful since. Extra early morning walks. Using the back entrance. Keeping Presti thoroughly exercised so he'd sleep quietly during the day.
Now it was Saturday morning, and Corey was attempting to enjoy his first full day with Presti without the stress of sneaking around. He'd just convinced the puppy that shoes were not breakfast food when someone knocked on his door.
His heart stopped.
Presti, sensing a visitor, let out an excited bark.
"Corey, dear? Are you home?"
Mrs. Smith.
Corey's mind raced. The living room was covered in evidence. Chew toys, water bowl, and of course a puppy currently staring at the door with his tail wagging furiously.
"Just a second!" he called, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.
He scooped up Presti, who immediately tried to lick his face. "Okay, buddy," Corey whispered frantically. "New game. It's called 'be completely silent in the bedroom and don't bark no matter what.'"
Presti wagged his tail, clearly thinking this was the best game ever.
Corey deposited the puppy in the bedroom and firmly closed the door. He could hear Presti's confused whine on the other side. Please don't bark, he thought desperately. Please, please don't bark.
He grabbed the water bowl and shoved it under the sink, kicked a tennis ball under the couch, and was reaching for a chew toy when Mrs. Smith knocked again.
"Coming!" Corey abandoned the toy—it was half-hidden behind the chair, probably fine—and opened the door with what he hoped was a casual smile.
Mrs. Smith stood in the hallway, holding a covered dish. She was a sweet eighty-two-year-old woman who baked compulsively and had strict opinions about quiet hours and building maintenance.
"Good morning, dear," she said pleasantly. "I made too much banana bread."
"That's so thoughtful, Mrs. Smith." Corey took the dish, positioning himself to block her view of the living room. Behind him, he heard a suspicious thump from the bedroom. His smile felt frozen on his face. "Thank you so much."
“What did you say?” the older woman asked, fiddling with her hearing aids.
“Thank you!”
"You're welcome." Mrs. Smith peered past him with mild curiosity. "Everything all right? You seem flustered."
"No, no, everything's fine." Another thump. Louder this time. "I’ve been doing some cleaning. Moving furniture around."
"Oh, how industrious." Mrs. Smith smiled. "You know, I've been meaning to ask. Have you heard any odd noises lately? My husband thought he heard barking the other night, but his hearing isn't what it used to be, and I told him he was imagining things."
Corey's blood ran cold. "Barking? No, I haven't heard anything."
"Probably just the pipes then. This old building.
" She shifted the dish slightly. "Although, speaking of the building, the condo board is meeting next month.
There's been talk about revising the pet policy.
The building manager's daughter wants a cat.
Some residents are concerned about noise and damage. "
"That makes sense," Corey managed, very aware of the scratching sound coming from the bedroom.
Mrs. Smith paused mid-sentence, tilting her head. "What was that?"
"What was what?" Corey's voice came out slightly too high.
"That sound."
"Oh! That—" Corey's mind went blank. "It’s the radiator. It makes noise when it's adjusting. Old building, you know."
Another scratch. Then a soft whine.
Mrs. Smith's eyes narrowed slightly, and for a horrible moment, Corey was certain she knew exactly what was in his bedroom.
"Well," she said slowly. "You should probably have maintenance look at that. It sounds quite... persistent."
"I will. Definitely. First thing Monday."
"Good." She studied him for another moment that felt like an eternity. "And Corey? You know you can always come to Mr. Smith or me if you need anything. We're right downstairs."
"I appreciate that, Mrs. Smith."
She nodded, but something in her expression made Corey wonder if she suspected more than she was letting on. "Enjoy the banana bread.”
"I will."
After she left, Corey stood frozen by the door for a full thirty seconds, listening to her footsteps descend the stairs. Only when he was certain she was gone did he take a deep breath and open the bedroom door.
Presti burst out like he'd been released from prison, tail wagging furiously, completely unaware of the crisis he'd nearly caused.
Corey sank onto the couch, his heart still pounding. "That was too close, buddy. Way too close."
The puppy responded by trying to climb into his lap, carrying what appeared to be Corey's phone charger.
"No, that's not a toy either." Corey gently extracted the charger and looked at the puppy seriously. "We need to talk about your timing."
Presti tilted his head, one ear flopping adorably to the side.
"I know, I know. You didn't understand." Corey scratched behind the puppy's ears. "But we have to be more careful. Three weeks until that board meeting Mrs. Smith mentioned. We can’t have anyone noticing that you live here."