Rex stood rigid near the doorway, ears pricked, eyes fixed somewhere beyond the walls. Not pacing. Not whining. Just watching. “Probably overstimulated,” Lucy murmured. “Big crowd. New smells.”
Emma nodded, though her gaze stayed on Rex. Lucy was usually right. But Rex wasn’t scanning the room. He was listening. Her mother stepped inside then, dabbing her eyes with a tissue, smiling through tears. Rex moved instantly.