Chapter 92

“Bullet!” Yvonne exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him and leading him into her room for a tight hug. “I’ve missed you so much. Did you miss me?”
He let out two soft barks in response.
Stroking his large head, she whispered, “How have you been all these years? Has Bennett been mean to you?”
Two more barks followed, this time with a soft whine that sounded like a mix of complaint and sorrow.
That night, Bullet dragged his dog bed into Yvonne’s room. She slept on the bed, and he slept on the floor beside it, a loyal sentinel watching over her.
She woke the next morning to the sight of him sitting by her bed, watching her quietly.
“Good morning, Bullet,” she said with a smile, reaching out to scratch his head before getting up. She walked to the French doors and pulled back the heavy curtains, letting the warm sunlight flood the room. Stretching her arms, she let out a contented sigh.
For a moment, it felt like she was back in her old life. She was Yvonne Jones, with loving parents, a boy she adored, and a wonderful dog. Life had been simple and sweet.
“Ms. Jones, are you awake?” A knock at the door pulled her back to reality.
She opened it to find Helen looking anxious. Her expression softened with relief when she saw Bullet. “Oh, there you are! You gave me a scare. I thought he’d run off again,” Helen said, pressing a hand to her chest.
“He’s a professionally trained police dog. He wouldn’t get lost,” Yvonne replied casually, stroking his head.
“How did you know he was a police dog?” Helen asked, surprised.
Yvonne froze. She had spoken without thinking. “Oh, just a guess,” she said, quickly recovering. “He looks so well-trained.”
Helen nodded, accepting the explanation. Thank goodness it was Helen. Bennett would not have been so easily fooled.
After getting ready, Yvonne left her room with Bullet trotting happily behind her. Helen mentioned that Bennett had left for the base early.
Bennett have likel
that morning, likely to catch up on work after their trip to Vexel.
Once breakfast was over, Yvonne and Helen took Bullet downstairs for his day walk. He raced across the lawn with
abandon before circling
back to Yvonne’s side.
“Bullet, at ease! Attention! Right face!
Forward march! Sit!” Yvonne
commanded, just as she used
The dog responded with perfect, practiced obedience.
She laughed and ruffled his fur, then held out her hand. He immediately placed his
paw in her palm. She shook it warmly. “Good boy,” she praised.
He seemed to understand, his tongue lolling out in excitement.
“I can’t believe how well he listens to you,” Helen said, looking on in amazement.
Yvonne just smiled. Of course he listened to her. He was her dog.
“Dismissed. Go play,” she said, patting his head. He bounded back into the grass.
Yvonne and Helen sat on a bench, soaking up the sun.
“Helen, how long have you worked here?” Yvonne asked casually.