The woman shifts carefully until the cat is cradled against Valeria’s chest. Despite the pain, the cat presses into her, all fragile trust and warmth.
“We’ll be right back,” Valeria says before carrying her toward the X-ray room and flagging down a vet tech to help her.
A few minutes later, the images glow on the screen, and Valeria’s stomach sinks. Multiple fractures. Some old. Some new. This isn’t something a splint can fix. This cat needs surgery.
She exhales and runs a hand through the cat’s damp fur. “I’m sorry, hon.”
Valeria lifts her gently and returns to the exam room, setting her carefully on the table. She grabs a purée treat and eases it toward the cat’s mouth, keeping her calm and still. The last thing she needs is for her to jump and make things worse.
“Good news and bad news,” Valeria says quietly. “Which would you like first?
The woman swallows. “What’s the bad news?”
“The bad news is her leg was broken before and healed improperly, so there’s not much for me to do,” Valeria explains. “She’ll need surgery. I think there’s a very high chance it’ll need to get amputated.”
“Amputate?” The woman sucks in a breath. “There’s nothing else you can do?”
Valeria shakes her head, wishing she had a kinder answer. “Looks like there are old fractures that didn’t heal right, and there’s no way for me to correct that.
The woman nods. “Would you do it now?”
Valeria shakes her head. “We don’t have the surgical equipment or the specialized training for this kind of fracture.”
The woman steadies herself. “Then what’s the good news?”
“The good news is I have a friend who’s an incredible veterinary surgeon. I can call her and see if she can take this case tonight. She works at the twenty-four-hour emergency clinic in Lynwood, which, unfortunately, is the closest one to town. I used to volunteer there, so I know she’ll be in excellent hands. They might also be able to coordinate with the animal shelter to help cover the cost if you decide not to keep her.”
The woman shakes her head immediately. “No. I want to keep her. The cat distribution system found me, and I’m not about to let it down.”
Valeria smiles, something warm and relieved settling in her chest. “In that case, they also offer payment plans, which can help. This type of surgery can get expensive, and aside from that, she’ll need a full round of vaccines to get her up to date.”
The woman presses her lips together and nods, her hand gentle as it strokes the cat’s head. “Okay. If you could tell them we’re coming, I’ll take her right now.”
Valeria gives the cat one last reassuring pat as she finishes the purée stick. “I’ll call her and let her know you’re on the way.”
“Thank you,” the woman says with a sigh, reaching for Valeria’s hand.
Valeria takes it. This time, when their eyes meet, she sees her for the first time since she burst through the door. She has shoulder-length hair cut into flowing layers that frame her face, full lips, and striking heterochromia. One eye dark as a black hole, the other a warm, golden brown that almost glows. It brings Maria to mind immediately. A girl Valeria knew for a single summer, back when she was a teenager at a religious camp her father had insisted she attend after he’d caught her and Celeste—the next-door neighbor—making out in a closet.
Maria never knew what she meant to Valeria then, but that summer had altered the shape of her world.
“Everything okay?” the woman asks, clearing her throat.
Valeria blinks. “Yeah, sorry. Your eyes. I’ve only ever met one other person with heterochromia. It stirred up a memory I haven’t visited in a long time.” Heat creeps into her cheeks as she realizes she was probably staring. “I’m sorry.” Valeria laughs.
The woman gives Valeria a lopsided smile. “No, you’re good,” the woman says, and gestures toward the door. “I should probably go.”
“Of course. Yeah, I’ll let her know you’re on your way.”
The woman gently picks up the cat and turns to leave, and Valeria realizes she doesn’t know her name. She needs her name for the clinic.
“Wait,” Valeria calls. The woman turns back, eyes wide. “Your name—what’s your name?”
“Camila,” she says with a smile.
Valeria lets out an amused huff butnods, her gaze following as the woman carries the cat from the exam room and through the door. Something about her lingers in Valeria’s mind, a strange sense of recognition. Valeria knows that wasn’t Maria, but there’s something about this woman that feelssofamiliar, and she can’t quite place why. She doesn’t focus on it, though. Instead, she calls her friend to give her a heads-up on the woman and her cat on their way to her, and a few seconds after the call ends, Valeria steps back into the reception area, fully expecting to find Brooke waiting for her, but she isn’t.
The only proof that Brooke was ever there is the bouquet of birds-of-paradise resting on the front counter. Valeria’s heart sinks as she turns to Brenda. She doesn’t have to ask.
