Phantom Quadrant presents:

Living in the sewers of the Old City,” Luke calls out. “Aren’t you happy?” he asks, his words, as sweet as they sound, breaking into a gasp that throws the old dog off balance. She squints. “Of course,” she says slowly. “I love you, Luke. I have always loved you.” He feels her fist slide over his shoulder. “That’s my boy. And I love you back. “It’s enough. Let go, Pookie. Let go.” Her hand flutters against his and she leans back, tilts her head, puffs out her cheeks. “Yeah, yeah. Let go, Luke. Let go.”