Page 47 of While We Waited

“His basket is in Nova’s office.”

I’ll start in the laundry room. There’s no cat to be found anywhere near the litter box. But I do find the cat carrier. I grab it and continue my search.

The cat isn’t in the living room. Or in Nova’s office.

I dig out my phone and message Nova.

Is it possible Finn’s outside?

Nova: No! Finn is NOT allowed outside. The dog next door will eat him.

I stuff my phone in my pocket and glance around the living room. The cat has to be here somewhere. Is he hiding?

I get to my knees to search underneath her couch. Sure enough. There’s a gray ball of fur in the corner.

“Come on, kitty. Time to go.”

Finn hisses at me.

“Don’t make me come after you.”

I reach an arm under the sofa for him and he scratches me. I yank my arm back and notice he drew blood.

Coaxing the cat out is not going to work. I get to my feet. I can lift the sofa and the cat will be forced out of his hiding place.

I lift the sofa and the cat darts out. I drop the sofa to catch him. But the little shit is fast. He dashes past me and down the hall. I chase after him.

“Don’t worry,” Sophia says as I pass her. “I’m recording everything for Nova.”

I ignore her. I forgot what troublemakers Nova’s friends are. The five of them were always getting in trouble in high school. By the looks of it, they haven’t stopped causing trouble since then.

I follow the cat into Nova’s office.

“Where are you going to hide now? There’s no sofa in here.”

But there is a desk. The cat scrambles underneath it. There’s a problem with his plan. I can easily reach underneath the desk. Which is what I do. And I receive another scratch for my troubles.

The cat races from the office to Nova’s bedroom. I follow him but come to a stop when I notice Maya cradling the cat in her arms.

“He’s just scared,” she whispers.

“I’ll get the cat carrier.”

I return to the bedroom with the carrier and the cat goes nuts. Nova could have warned me her cat is fucking crazy.

“I can’t hold him,” Maya says as she tries to keep control of the cat without getting scratched. Damn. I can’t let her get harmed.

I reach over and grab the cat from her. I try to shove him into the carrier but he widens his arms and legs to stop me. Damnit. What now?

“Put him down your shirt,” Paisley says.

“I’m not putting a hissing, scratching cat down my shirt.”

“It’s the best way to calm him down. Your heartbeat will reassure him.”

“Go ahead,” Chloe urges. “If Paisley says it, it’s true.”

I’ve got nothing to lose. Except a nipple. I pull my shirt out, and Finn crawls inside without any prompting.

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