For once in my life, I did what I was told. It was as awful as I thought it would be.
Studmuffin and I hovered inside room four's doorway, waiting and listening for the detective. Lights snapped on in Cass's room, and some rummaging noises filtered out.
"Why didn't you tell me, pet?" Studmuffin asked, still attached to my face.
"Because I didn't want to hurt you."
"Not telling me hurt me worse."
"I'm sorry," I said, wincing. "I was trying to find a way to not tell you. But you're right. That is worse."
"Nothing will happen to you tonight." He wrapped both murder mittens around my head and squeezed.
I breathed in most of the fur on his chest. My poor lungs would never be the same. "By nothing, do you mean me not getting enough air?"
"Sorry." He slipped down my face a fraction.
I couldn't tell if it was because he'd moved or because gravity was trying to help out my lungs. Either way, I could breathe a little easier now.