Chapter One

Three days has never seemed like such a long time before. I am sure that once, when I roamed the streets searching for safety in the midst of danger, three days would have been nothing. The flick of a tail, or the blink of an eye.

But while I’m sitting by the front door and watching Sophia look out of the dusty front window from the top of a bookshelf, I feel like I’m turning to dust with every second that passes. Each one is longer than the last. Time is playing tricks on me, but I can’t stop it. In many ways, I am powerless.

When I’m also meant to be leading our tribe and keeping us all safe, being powerless is the worst feeling in the world.

I sigh, picking myself up off the floor and pacing in front of the bookshelf. I don’t want to startle her out of her wait for Joseph to return, but my body will go numb if I sit on the hard floor in front of the front door for much longer.

Kicking out a spot for myself within all the rubbish only reveals a tough, uncomfortable carpet beneath.

“How many days?” Sophia asks, her little voice travelling down to me from the top of the bookshelf. It only increases the heavy feeling inside my chest—especially when her mother’s eyes peer down at me, distracted from her wait.

“This…” I try to choose my words carefully, but there’s no easy way to talk about our situation. The rest of the tribe has come to terms with it, or I hope they have, but Sophia?

Her daydreams persist. She sees Joseph when the rest of us only chase his shadow in nightmares. It would be cruel to say that he’s never coming back, but we have to be realistic.

Realism doesn’t exist in her comforting daydreams. I only wish that I could experience them too and hold the same strong beliefs that Joseph will return to us.

But I’ve been alone for too long to believe in lines of thought like that anymore. I waited. I stayed with the tribe for as long as I could. Of course, I’m not leaving them—I will never leave them for as long as we all want to stay together.

The house, and any hope of Joseph returning to us, is what we’re all leaving behind.

Hesitant, I ready my tongue again. “This is the last day, Sophia.”

She nods, but there’s an unreadable expression on her small face. Her whiskers twitch before she returns to her vigil by the window.

She has sat there ever since we discussed leaving the house, and I have accompanied her throughout that time. No matter what, I want her to have a good upbringing and turn into an adult cat who her mother would be proud of.

‘No matter what’ has been severely tested recently, and may be tested further, but I’m holding strong. I made a promise. Giving up on Sophia is not something that I’m prepared to do.

But giving up on Joseph returning is something of a necessity. We’re running low on food and can’t remain here much longer. There’s also, I’ve realised, the lurking issue of human authorities showing up to the house.

In the case of that happening, I am almost certain our united tribe would be separated and scattered. I can’t let that happen.

Many things rest on my shoulders, which is partly why I rejoice in the peace of our current situation. I curl up on the ground, not quite closing my eyes. Trying not to feel the sharp plastic prodding my left side, I keep my gaze on the small kitten at the top of the bookshelf.

She’s grown. I can’t escape the fact that she isn’t the same kitten I carried here to Joseph, small and afraid. She hasn’t finished growing yet, of course, but her legs are so much longer, and her body is scrawny but lanky—it used to be round and small, easy to pick up and hold close to my chest. Now, it wriggles and giggles and demands various stories before falling asleep. That is if she doesn’t sleep in her own den.

It’s not negative. I know it isn’t, and I fight to remind myself of that every day. She is growing up, but she’s not growing away. Everyone in the tribe loves her and Tess… Tess loved her too, when she was still with us.

We all want the best for her. If we can protect her, we will.

My worst fear is that one day, I won’t be there to save her. Not knowing where we’ll end up, I have no clue what her adult life will be like. We could be strays for the rest of our life, or we could magically find Joseph again. The latter is much less likely, but I…

I was about to say I still hope, but our agreement to leave the house and seek shelter and food elsewhere proves otherwise.

“How’s it going?”

Surprising me, Ruby appears from the living-room. Even more oddly, Sapphire is nowhere to be seen. Curious, I stand up and glance at Sophia, only to find her still occupied with her waiting.

“Same as yesterday,” I reply, shrugging. Even though we’ve finally decided to leave, no one’s in the mood for celebrating. It doesn’t feel liberating, or like we’re about to enter freedom. It just feels sad. “Are you and Sapphire ready?”

“There isn’t much to get ready, is there?” She says, and I nod.

She’s right. We’re cats, after all—we move on with ourselves and whoever we take with us: friends, family, or otherwise. Nothing more and nothing less.

Well, cats and a dog. That thought prompts my next question.

“Is Baxter alright with leaving?”

He’s been a mystery throughout these past three days. He doesn’t speak to us and spends long periods of time in the garden. We leave him alone, knowing he needs his space. But I also have to wonder if he’ll come with us when we leave.

In my opinion, he’s more than welcome. By this point, he’s a part of the tribe, no matter what’s gone on between him and Ruby in the past. No one’s past is perfect. I know that better than most of the tribe.

Still, I wouldn’t mind knowing what’s going on. In a practical sense, it would be useful to know how many of us are leaving so that there are as few surprises as possible when we make the leap. It’s already a difficult decision.

Plus, I know that the best basis for a good childhood is stability. Well, I’ve not exactly been educated on the subject, but I think it’s a pretty good guess. It’s the opposite of what I had.

Sophia deserves the polar opposite of the confusing life I went through as a kitten. She deserves the best childhood she can possibly have.

Keeping it calm and non-confusing would be ideal. It’s not always possible, but it’s definitely the best way.

Ruby shakes her head, then gestures towards the living-room. Before she speaks, I guess that she’s not referring to the room with the armchair in it, but instead the area beyond the kitchen behind it: the garden.

“I tried asking him again, this morning. Got blanked,” she says, her tail sweeping against the floor. “I guess we’ll find out when we leave and look behind us.”

“I don’t mind if he comes,” I say quickly, “but I just… want to know. It would make everything a lot easier.”

“Nothing is easy,” Ruby speaks sharply, and I step back a little. Since her arguments with Baxter have cooled off, she hasn’t used that cold tone in a while. “Especially not leaving. Leaving means that Joseph will not come back. You can’t,” she lowers her voice, “keep telling Sophia that he will.”

“I know that.” Frowning, I shake my head. I’m not sure what’s running through Ruby’s mind, but I’ve not been babying Sophia. Keeping her safe from some aspects of the truth, yes, but not coddling.

She’s had her three days. After those, the message is and has always been clear. We’re not staying anymore, and our lives will change.

We will move on. Memories of Joseph will remain with us, but not his physical presence. That left us long ago.

“Sapphire is hunting.” Ruby yawns suddenly, stretching out her body. “Hello, Sophia.”

“Hi!”

Sophia appears at my side, the top of her little tail tickling my side. The fact that it reaches my side is somewhat alarming, but I remind myself that growth is natural and kittens don’t stay kittens forever (for what seems like the hundredth time) and smile down at the kitten.

“We were talking about leaving,” I say kindly, keeping any notes of negativity out of my voice. Leaving is not a bad thing. It may feel difficult, or hard, or even impossible, but it is not a bad thing. We can’t survive here for much longer. “You’re still okay with that, aren’t you?”

“I have the rest of the day left,” she replies stubbornly.

Ruby laughs, before seemingly realising that the sound is a little inappropriate and covering it with a cough.

“Joseph could come back at any moment, Shadow!”

“You have until the end of today. Then, we go.” I decide to dance around her final statement, seeing her nod resolutely before bounding back to her post at the top of the bookshelf.

With what I hope is a stern look, I turn back to Ruby. We must look like two complete opposites. Her eyes are shining with some sort of humour, although I’m unsure of where she’s found it. In our situation, I’ve found very little to laugh about.

“Something’s funny?” I ask, noticing my own passive-aggressiveness but failing to do anything about it before it slips off my tongue. Luckily, Ruby seems unfazed.

“Yeah,” she says, sitting down. Her eyes aren’t looking at me. Their gaze is trained on the little kitten looking through the window. “She’s just as stubborn as you used to be, Shadow. Before you became all sensible.”

Instinctively, I clench my jaw. The realisation that she’s right washes over me seconds later and I relax, also looking towards Sophia. Seeing her so determined is nice, I’ll admit, even if I know it must end soon.

“I didn’t think you remembered that,” I admit, trying to think back to when Joseph brought Ruby and Sapphire into the house for the first time. My memory is a little hazy.

“I’ll never forget how you were. Crazy tom cat,” she laughs again, keeping quiet but not attempting to disguise the sound. “Yeah, she’ll be just like you. Got a lot to look forward to.”

“Shh.” I wave my paw in her direction, knowing that she’s right.

But I promised to take care of Sophia, so I will—no matter how difficult that might become.