He looked up at her question to find her smiling at him. He noticed it before, too, back in the front room when she opened the door for him, and again when she agreed to let him see the animals. It was a nice smile, warm and friendly, and after a moment's consideration, he decided he liked it.
He was also startled to realize that, for the first time since before he could remember, he wasn't unhappy. Charlie. That's what she said her name was. Charlie the nice lady.
"Noah," he said carefully, trying not to stammer again. "My name's Noah."
Charlie nodded, seemingly satisfied with this answer, and resumed walking toward a large shed set up in the parking lot that housed the animals.
Animals that he could smell from over here.
Noah stopped in his tracks, frozen by the scent of fresh blood. This was a veterinary clinic. These were sick and injured animals. Injured meant blood, and blood meant...