“Uncle Gweg! Why didn’t you call?”

He was just two minutes late. Even so, heaviness settled in his stomach. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I lost track of time. Had a good day today?”

A moment of silence passed before Enora’s whisper rang through his ears, “I shot Lionel MacDonald today and ran. He doesn’t know who did it.”

Although Greg could hear the smile in her voice and his animal howled in pride, his human’s eyes snapped shut. 

Shit.

As an afterthought, she added, “Don’t tell Mommy.”

“Sweetheart,” Greg exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This call is recorded.”

“What’s recworded?”

“It means everything we’re saying now will be on...