Halversham by RS Anthony

him while I’m here.”
    “Sure. Why don’t you give me your phone number and I’ll let you know tomorrow?”
    Andy paid and wrote down his number on the back of the receipt before stuffing his purchases into his backpack.
    Half an hour later, he was whistling for the dog at the foothill. Earlier, he had paused to take a look at the only house up on the hill. It had an ominous feel to it today in light of what he had heard. But he had to be impartial until he’d had the chance to investigate.
    Seconds later, the scrawny dog appeared. This time, the dog wagged its tail, which was tucked between its legs. Andy crouched on the field and took out his shopping bag. He placed the dog bowl on the ground and pulled the ring on a can. The dog sniffed the air, took tentative steps toward the bowl, and then stopped, lowering its head as Andy poured the contents.
    “Come, boy. Eat.”
    He pushed the bowl toward the dog and took a step back. The dog came closer to chomp on the chunks of meat, emptying the bowl in less than five minutes. Next, he poured some dry bites into the bowl, and the dog finished that too.
    “You know what? You need a name. So, I, Andrew J. Monaghan, hereby name you Brutus.” The dog cocked its head and blinked. Andy smiled and lay on grass to enjoy the summer breeze while Brutus romped about. When the sun began its descent, he cleaned up the place and refilled Brutus’s bowl. He patted the dog one last time before leaving.
    Although Andy was tired and ready to go home, he had to make sure Aunt Magda received Mr. Doyne’s money for the buns. So he walked to her house, headed for the back door, and found her retrieving something from the oven.
    “What’s that?”
    “Do you like shepherd’s pie?”
    “Absolutely.”
    “Good, take a seat.”
    Andy washed his hands, pulled out a chair, and sat. “Oh—before I forget, here’s the money from Mr. Doyne.” Andy pulled the money out from his pocket and handed it to her.
    “Thanks, Andy.” She pocketed the money and put a plate in front of him. Next, she cut a huge slice of the steaming pie as Andy drooled and swallowed. Less than a minute later, he was stuffing a forkful of pie into his mouth, burning his tongue in the process.
    “You’re the best cook I’ve ever known, Aunt Magda. Even better than my mom, and she was fantastic,” Andy said when he had finished almost three-quarters of the plate.
    Aunt Magda smiled sadly. “I wish Corrine enjoyed my cooking as much as you do. She doesn’t eat anything I cook. Did you know that?”
    Andy rested his fork on his plate and wiped his mouth. “Yeah, she told me.”
    Aunt Magda pulled a chair across the table and sat. “What else did she tell you?”
    “Nothing much.” He remembered Corrine’s pregnancy and cringed at the thought of asking Aunt Magda about it. It seemed too personal. It was probably best if he spoke about it to Corrine first. “I think Corrine needs professional help, Aunt Magda. I mean, I can talk to her, but it seems to me she needs more than a friend.”
    “Why? What did she tell you?”
    He licked his lips. “It’s not what she told me. It’s what I saw.”
    “What do you mean?”
    Andy hesitated. He didn’t want to tell her about the rabbit, since he had promised Corrine he’d keep her hideout a secret. “You know how she used to release goats from the pen and physically injure other people?”
    “Yes.”
    “She’s still doing it, but times a hundred. I mean, she told me she got you into trouble with Uncle Matt by telling him you sold bread in secret.”
    “Did she tell you why she did it? Why she told her father?” Andy shook his head and Aunt Magda looked away. She got up and walked to the window as Andy watched.
    “Doesn’t matter why. It was a cruel thing to do.”
    “You’re right. It was,” she said, averting her eyes. “I’m feeling a little light-headed. I’m going to go and rest for a minute. Can you help yourself while I lie down?”
    “Of