32 - Felicity

Suddenly, the boy cries. The dog goes back to him and licks his face. Shawn approaches him, too, but backs off when two adults arrive. I'm guessing they're his parents.

They talk in German but only briefly, the child's parents in a hurry to whisk him and the dog away. Shawn lets out a sigh.

I stand by his side and touch his arm. "Are you okay?"

He says nothing. He doesn't look okay. In fact, he seems upset. Is it because the dog's gone?

I squeeze his arm. "Hey. It's fine. You can get a Samoyed when you get back to Chicago."

He can probably afford a hundred of them.

"I don't have time for a dog," he replies.

Right. If I don't have time to take care of a dog, Shawn has even less.

"Well, at least you were able to pet this one," I say. "And he seemed to really like you."

Or was it a she? I wasn't able to tell.

"But the boy cried."

I look at Shawn with arched eyebrows. Is that what he's worried about?

"That wasn't your fault," I tell him.

He doesn't look convinced. In fact, he looks like h