The air bit harder than usual when I stepped outside, the kind of cold that clung to your lungs. I just needed milk, five minutes max, and then back up to the warmth of my place, where Trouble was probably asleep next to the coffee machine again. Or it’s bed for once.
But halfway down the front steps, I stopped.
A shape on the pavement.
Small. Curled in on itself.
Aurora.
She was crouched low, fingers trembling as she wiped at her face. Even from a distance, I could see her shoulders shaking.
My chest tightened instantly.
I walked closer, slowly. “Aurora?”
Her head snapped up, eyes red, cheeks streaked wet. She froze when she saw me.
“Hey,” I said softly, crouching beside her. “What’s wrong?”
She sniffled, shook her head as if it didn’t matter.
I tilted my head. “Why are you crying?”
Her lips parted slightly, small, stuttering words falling out. “H-Honey—gone.”
Honey.
My brain stuttered. “Honey?”
She nodded again, tears brimming fresh. “T-the kitten. I came to feed her, but she—she’s not here. S-she’s always here.”
My brain short-circuited as she spoke a full sentence…spoke.With her soft, posh British accent. She sounded the words out to me.
Not type, not text.
Spoke.
She said that—
Oh.
Oh, shit.
The kitten.Honey.
The same tiny fur ball that was right now probably sleeping, full belly and purring like it owned the place.
She named it Honey.
Of course she did.
For a moment, guilt knotted in my throat.
She came down to feed it, worrying over it, and I’d just taken it. Just scooped it up because I didn’t want it to freeze.
I reached out, gently brushing the dirt off her knees as I helped her stand.
“Come on,” I said quietly. “It’s freezing. You’ll catch a cold sitting out here.”
