White flakes swirled as Mildred peeked out the front door. Telltale footprints on the porch steps: the boy had just been there.
She opened the door and lifted the newspaper, shaking off the snow. Then she scanned the white expanse for the boy.
Nothing but the blowing snow.
She stepped onto the porch, pulling her sweater closed, and scanned again.
“You’ll catch your death out here.”
A yellow patch told her he’d urinated in her front yard.
A cold tabby tail tickled her ankle. Mildred smiled and opened the door for her friend. “Come on in for breakfast, dear.”