Mo was sitting on her shoulder the next morning as she headed into work. "So, he just stays at home all day?" he asked, referring to Dali as they entered the shop. "How do you know he isn't plotting?"
He opened the door, cleaning his hands with a towel as he closed it behind him and came over to her. "What is it?"
He stopped in his track, his eyes widening as he studied the mouse. "Where... where did you get him?" he asked slowly.
It was hard to tell, but it looked like an expression passed over his eyes. Something maybe like relief. "He doesn't remember anything? We can fix that," he said, reaching his free hand out.
