Chapter One

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Books had always been the perfect escape from my harrowing life—tales of heroes, villains, and lost princesses. The fantasy worlds that promised happily-ever-afters and true love. Immersed in the warm pages of a book, I forgot about the horrors I faced when the book closed.

I lost the whimsical belief that fairytales were real as I grew up, but the desire to get lost in them anyway remained. Especially when the real world felt like it was closing in on me.

The early afternoon sun cast the perfect lighting on the book in my lap. It started out slow, but it didn't take long after the introduction of the princess's love interest for the story to take off. Legs folded under me on the park bench, I gripped the book in anticipation. The traitorous lord had the prince cornered, determined to keep him from saving his sister. The lord raised his sword, poised to strike, when something warm and slimy fell into my lap.

I glanced up, raising an unamused brow at the border collie wagging his tail at my feet. His ball, coated in his slobber, sat in the crook of my leg.

Noah barked once, bouncing on his paws. When I refused to move, he impatiently nudged the ball, smearing the slobber into my leggings.

Grimacing, I set my book on the bench beside me, praying Noah's slobber didn't touch the pages, then picked up the ball.

Noah yapped, lowering his head to the ground and raising his back into the air. His eyes pleaded for me to throw his favourite toy as much as his jittery paws did.

"Ready?"

He whimpered, and I threw the ball as hard as I could across the park. Noah sped after it, fur blowing in the March afternoon wind. He was never as happy as he was at the park, forcing me to play fetch with him for hours.

It had been this way almost every day for the past five years, the same song and dance, yet I couldn't imagine anything different. He was my best friend, and I didn't need anyone else.

My book returned to my lap and I waited again for Noah to bring me his ball. Hopefully without as much slobber.

After what felt like twenty minutes with no sign of him, my eyes tore from the words of another world and searched for my dog. Being as hyperactive as he was, Noah disappearing at the park was nothing new. He made friends, found sticks, and conned children out of snacks all the time. The difference between those times and this one: he always stayed in sight.

I jumped to my feet, scanning the large park full of people. Panic gnawed at my chest, seconds from consuming any rationality left.

"Noah!" I called, pacing in front of the bench. "Come here, boy!"

Nothing.

I raced to his favourite spot, heart beating in my ears. He loved the far corner of the park because there were plenty of places to hide—in bushes, behind rocks, under low-hanging trees.

"Noah!" My arms wrapped around my body, fighting the breeze rolling through.

"A little help over here!"

I ducked behind one of the rocks, brows furrowed at the sight of Noah cornering a lanky blond against a clump of bushes. I suppressed a laugh when the shock wore off, waving Noah away from him.

"I am so sorry," I breathed out, relief washing over me.

He gave me a side smile, warily eyeing Noah as he stood up. "Thanks for that," the boy coughs.

"Yeah, no problem . . ." I gulped when our eyes met, taken back by the intensity of his bright blues. It was impossible for me to look away first, so he did, clearing his throat and holding out his hand.

Unexpected | Simon Minter | MiniminterWhere stories live. Discover now