The air in the Pierce household was already thick with the scent of sugar and impending celebration. Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air as Guest's mother, Alice, bustled about. She moved with a practiced efficiency, her hands a blur as she frosted a massive sheet cake, humming a cheerful but slightly off-key tune. Leo, ever the helpful son, was wrestling with a tangled mess of streamers in the living room, a determined frown on his face that was at odds with the festive colors he was trying to wrangle.

A text message pinged on Guest’s phone, and the sight of Rhys’s name, accompanied by a picture of Duke panting happily in a car seat, sent a fresh wave of excitement through her. The dog was a massive, slobbery bundle of love, and seeing him was almost as good as seeing his owner.