My head jerked to the side, another painful memory sliding into place.
CHAPTER 38
Ginger
“Bram!” I shouted, rummaging about my kitchen searching for a pouch of dried fish strips. The little dragon loved those things.
Movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention. “Oh! There you are, wh—AH!”
I jumped, my heart skipping a beat in my chest.
It wasn’t my dragon.
It was a cat—small, black, and glaring daggers at me.
“Cat! You scared me!” I hissed between heaving breaths.
The creature swished its tail back and forth menacingly.
I took a step back. “Okay, sorry. Just a misunderstanding.”
The cat hissed at me, short and sharp.
I stepped back even further. He could have the kitchen. That was fine.
With a heavy exhale, I gathered the courage to ask, “Have you seen the little green dragon?” I held up both of my hands. “About this big?”
The cat grumbled quietly.
“Right. Sorry. I’ll find him myself.”
I looked in all his favorite hiding spots. My bed. Under the covers in my bed. Under the pillow in my bed. In the basket of dirty clothes needing to be washed.
No luck.
I tossed the side window open. “Bram!” I yelled, as loud as my voice would allow me. “I have snacks!”
That bribe always worked when the little creature wandered too far.
I waited.
I waited more.
I screamed, shouted, and bribed as much as I could bribe.
The dragon did not return.
The black cat grew increasingly agitated, swatting at me if I stepped too close and seemingly purposely walking under my feet. It was the opposite of helpful.
I choked back the urge to cry.
Surely, Bram was fine. Nothing could happen to a dragon. Dragons were tough, even if they were still babies.
And my sweet, gentle dragon was toughest of them all. I knew it.
The cat circled me angrily, grumbling.
“Get out of my way, cat! I’m trying to find Bram!” I hissed.
