Antaris shakes his head vigorously, not to be reasoned with. The rain falls harder. A clap of lightning comes before the thunder rolls. Veda, unwilling to get drenched, starts looking for the kitten’s mother. She doesn’t get far—she finds the cat already dead. It hasn’t been long.
What a cruel fate disguised as an act of nature.
She covers the body with dirt and leaves, making a mental note to ask a farmhand to bury it properly, deep enough not to attract larger wildlife. When she returns, Antaris is still waiting, shirt soaked. She doesn’t have the heart to vocalize a truth he seems to know.
“Let’s take the kitten inside.”
Solemn and careful, he leads the way to the school. Inside, Veda examines the mewling kitten. It looks about a month old. Maybe male. Antaris helps bathe off the fleas and holds it while Veda scours the kitchen for a bottle and some goat’s milk. It’ll do for now. She guides Antaris as he bottle-feeds the kitten, now swaddled in a small towel. Without Dr. Simpson, there’s no veterinarian on-site. She’ll leave that to Peter.
“Have you had a cat before?”
Antaris shakes his head. His eyes hold a mix of fascination and concern. He comforts the kitten the only way he knows: holding it, keeping it warm, making sure it’s not alone. Not abandoned.
A war brews within her. Part of her hopes that a boy this kind won’t be tainted by a family so terrible. Another part reminds her there’s no scale to measure a person, nothing to prove who they’ll become. Veda knows the sort of people the Ellises are.
Losing a parent can destroy someone’s goodness, but Antaris’s remains intact, brightening the world in spite of the lingering darkness. The desire to ensure he thrives beyond her potential demise wrestles with Veda’s illogical desire to walk every step with him. Smothering every warring emotion doesn’t happen fast enough to escape the notice of the most observant child she’s ever met.
“I’m fine.” He doesn’t seem to believe her, but there’s something familiar in his expression. Bitter amusement prickles in her chest. “I think I see the resemblance between you and your dad.”
Antaris perks up. His interest is loud and clear.
“You want to know about your dad?”
He gravitates closer, eager. Veda isn’t sure what to say. Hiram Ellis is infuriating at best, mystifying at worst. She wants Hiram to be the problem, but perspective humanizes him in a way she doesn’t care for.
Fortunately, this isn’t about Hiram. It’s about Antaris. Veda scrambles to remember every positive detail about an infuriating man she’s interacted with only three times.
“He likes to read ...” She trails off, chuckling when Antaris points to himself. “Yeah, like you. He also likes to swim.” This makes his mouth purse in thoughtful consternation. “He might like art, too, but I’ll be honest, I’ve only just met him. Your godfather, Peter, knows him best.” She slowly removes the bottle from the now-sleeping kitten, murmuring, “I think we’ll both have to figure him out.”
Veda barges into Peter’s office after Simran leaves with Antaris, his brows rising at the bundle in her arms.
“What’s that?”
“You didn’tSeethis coming?” Veda sarcastically remarks.
There is no hint of amusement on Peter’s face. “You know how Sight works and still make this terrible joke.”
“Couldn’t help myself.” Veda transfers the sleeping kitten into Peter’s arms despite his protest. “Long story short, this is a kitten Antaris found. No idea how he heard meowing from the balcony, but ...”
Peter blinks like he’s stared at the sun too long. “Why are you giving it to me?”
“Because our vet is missing in action, and yesterday, you asked me to drop off Lucinda’s produce order today after Antaris leaves. So, congratulations, you’re cat sitting.”
“Khadijah is going to kill me if I bring home another stray.”
Veda squints. “What do you meananother?”
“I found eggs abandoned in the park a few weeks ago. I thought they were ducks, which I’ve been wanting to add to our flock, but they hatched a couple of days ago. Turns out they’re chickens. None of the chickens will take them, so they’re living in my spare bathroom for now. I didn’t realize how loud they’d be. Khadijah keeps calling themchicken nuggets. They’re named after sauces.”
Veda bursts out laughing as Peter grabs a wicker basket and gently deposits the kitten inside, blanket and all.
“How was your visit to the library?”
“Oddly specific question.” Veda glares. “You’re not quite at Clinton’s level of cryptic yet.”
“Cosmos, no. The date on the check-out slip was in a vision. This past weekend?”
“Yeah. I ran into Hiram and Antaris at the library.” She taps her foot, hands on her hips. “He had no idea I was Antaris’s tutor. How is that possible?”
