Leaving Martha
Martha looked at veterinarian George, whose face looked pale. “What do you mean it’s not a snake?” she asked, her voice filled with fear.
Her hand trembled as she pressed the glass down, feeling the “snake” moving around inside it. George searched for the right words, not wanting to scare Martha even more.
Suddenly, he grabbed his phone and began to walk away. “Keep your hand on the glass. I have to call someone!”