Nima lay on the table, unconscious, as Dev ran an ultrasound wand over the tiny bobcat’s stomach. She’d gotten dehydrated several times over the last week. That wasn’t normal, but every test Charlie ran came back normal.
“I am not seeing anything.” Dev’s tone was rough as he switched off the machine.
Charlie’s head fell forward. “I didn’t, either.” She’d hoped she’d missed something—anything to explain the symptoms. “It’s possible the mother abandoned Nima because of something, but she didn’t pin a note to her.”
Dev moved and pulled her into his arms. His body was warm against hers. Not finding a diagnosis was rough, but having a partner, a real partner, was as close to perfection as Charlie’s life had ever come.
“If she was older, I’d say it’s hyperthyroidism.” Dev brushed his lips to her forehead.
Charlie ran the symptoms through her head. Inability to gain weight. Increased thirst and urination, and dehydration.
Dev was right. If it wasn’t for the kitten’s age, she’d have tested for it, too. Less than 5 percent of cats under ten had the disease but…
She grabbed a needle and quickly drew the cat’s blood. “I mean, we can’t find anything else.”
Dev’s eyes showed little hope. It was possible they’d have to humanely euthanize Nima, but Charlie wasn’t ready to cross that bridge. Not yet.
“Charlie…”
His tone was soft and resigned.
“Any chance you’ve looked at the security keypad installation?” She knew the answer and regretted asking the second it slipped from her lips. Dev had told her it would take hours a week ago. And each time she brought it up, a look passed over his eyes.
Like he was waiting for her to do something, but what?
“Never mind.” Charlie blew out a breath. In her rush to change the topic on Nima, she’d dumped a can of worms. Starting a fight with the man she cared about when she was stressed over Nima wouldn’t solve either problem.
“Without an in-house lab, we won’t know for at least forty-eight hours.” An on-site lab was something she’d love for the rescue, but the odds she’d ever have one were…well—she could dream.
“You going to ask me for one of those?” Dev’s question sliced through her soul.
“Dev—”
“I could have one set up in a few days.” He raised an eyebrow.
Was he daring her to ask…or daring her not to?
“Like you could set up the security panel in a few hours?” That was low, but the flint of frustration in his eyes made her raise her chin. “Are you upset that I am not asking for the lab, but am asking for the security locks?”
“The lab makes more sense.”
“Not necessarily.” Charlie turned, focusing on Nima’s blood. Jared had used her tech room, thought he could use kind words and platitudes so she wouldn’t notice.
And I didn’t.
“And the difference between the cost of a lab and a keypad is not even in the same decimal range. Come on, Dev.”
His phone buzzed. “It’s just money.” He shrugged, then answered the call.
Just money…words that could only be spoken by someone who never needed to worry over it.
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