Unless you’ve been fortunate or unfortunate enough to have to learn proper budgeting as a child, you’re going to grow up and have money flow through your fingers like a stream. Sometimes it’ll trickle through the woods all slow and lazy, perfect to dip your toes in and revel in your newfound independence. And sometimes it moves fast enough to knock you right off your feet.

Funny enough, I think I actually managed to work through most of those instincts by the time I moved in with Ryan. Quitting alcohol alone does wonders for your financial prospects. Not only does it cost two arms and a leg in this City, but a large number of other expensive decisions never come to pass when you’re sober enough to actually think about them for two seconds.

Unfortunately, there’s no rehab available for people with a burgeoning martyr complex. Wasting time and effort is still wasting, and Ryan spent a lot of both on people who could only pay us with stuff like painted wooden dolls and fresh popcorn. Nice souvenirs, and nicer snacks, but neither would pay the bills. Not to mention I have a suspicion he stuffs part of his paychecks into food drives and the like. But I’ve never been able to prove it, and he’s not the type to boast about it, either. He does that enough with his cases, even though he thinks he’s being subtle.

In any case, when I tell you his detective agency was unexpectedly successful, I do mean it. Every now and then a well-paying client did walk through that door. It’s just that in those first few years neither of us got our feet under ourselves long enough to turn those bursts of prosperity into something stable. We’d strapped ourselves to a constantly teetering seesaw and the moment when this little case begins was when we were a bare inch off the asphalt.

Perfect time for Ryan to rescue a drowning kitten. Because of course he did.

*

The case that morning had seemed so promising, too. We were hired by the manager of an uptown clothing store, the kind of uptown that has tailors on hand to refit anything you want to buy, and constant, bone-chilling AC. Someone was stealing dresses from the place every evening, somehow without setting off the security alarms. Seemed pretty straightforward as far as cases go, and it was. Ryan called the police on the manager in about fifteen minutes. Turns out she thought hiring two guys in their twenties to look over the store would settle down the people telling her to go to the police. But apparently the clothes store company decided afterwards that the branch manager ‘had no authority to make such specialized hiring decisions’ and ‘should not have been considered to represent the company interests.’ Which basically meant no paychecks would be coming from their desks.

I was still seething with rage as we walked back over the riverfront. It was a drab and grey morning, and the store had been close enough to home that we’d thought it best not to take the car. The gas tank was only a few inches above empty, anyway.

“We should sue them,” I muttered. “Those greenback-grubbing assholes! We did them a favor! Stealing from a company like that is practically a public service. We should’ve just asked that woman for a cut of the money.”

Ryan was studying the river intently. “All my usual objections aside, if I could figure her out in fifteen minutes then her coworkers couldn’t be too far behind. And at that point she’d almost certainly point accusing fingers at us.”

All my anger deflated in the face of such ruthless logic. I sighed. “Yeah, she would, wouldn’t she? I just was honestly hoping—hey, what are you doing?”

“There’s something down there.” He said, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it in my direction. By the time I caught it, he was already at the riverbank and wading into the water. I squinted, but the sun chose that moment to skip out from behind the clouds and turn the water into a bright silver haze. I blinked furiously, trying to make something out, but then Ryan came out to shore with something in his arms. A grey, wriggling furball, snarling at us like a jackal. My brother took his jacket back and used it to pat the little thing dry.

“Huh.” I said, looking around us. “A kitten. This isn’t such a bad neighborhood, is it? You think someone might have a reward for finding their pet or something?”

“Perhaps.” He said, as the creature hissed and gnawed at the jacket. “It’s worth checking, after going through all this trouble.” He shivered. “But I think we should get the kitten checked over first. I don’t even think its mother would recognize it in this state.”

“Ah,” I said, smiling brightly for the first time in what felt like weeks. “I think I have a friend who can help with that.”

*

It was nice to be the one for once with a useful friend. They can be surprisingly hard to find on short notice, which is why Ryan spends so much time carefully cultivating his contact list. Not that I want to diss the rest of my friends, of course. They’re good people. I just wouldn’t count on their help in a zombie apocalypse or something.

Dr. Uriah St. Andre, on the other hand, would definitely be a ton of help. He was a giant of a man, with a thick black beard and an office filled with medical supplies and high-grade tranquilizers. Oh, and he works with animals, too. His was a rather young practice—young enough we’d actually drunk together a few times in university less than two years back. To his credit, I didn’t have to say a word about our past friendship. He just glanced at the kitten through thick, scratched-up spectacles, nodded to us and got to work.

“Notched ear with small teeth marks, probably done by another kitten recently. Probably should get some antiseptic for that. Could get infected. Then there’s the fractured leg.” Uri was muttering for his own sake more than ours. “That’s an easy fix, at least. Can’t say the same about the rest.” There was a sharp click and the kitten yowled again, sinking its teeth deep into the vet’s glove. The glove must’ve been thicker than I’d thought, because he didn’t even flinch. Now that it had been cleaned up a bit the cat looked surprisingly approachable, with dusky gold fur and black stripes. Its eyes were of the same yellow shade, now narrowed in pain and fury.

Ryan was kneeling down beside the vet, pulling out his pocket magnifier and clicking it open. “You can still see the marks of a collar.” He noted, holding the lens to his eye. “And look, Dy, you can still see a few scratches through the fur. That doesn’t seem like debris from the river. They’re a little jagged, yes, but they’re also so narrow. And spaced so evenly, too. Almost like—"

“- you shouldn’t be getting that close.” Uri said, pressing a stethoscope to the kitten’s chest as it mewled. “Poor thing’s heart isn’t doing so well to begin with, and he really doesn’t need the additional stress.”

“Kittens can get heart disease?” I asked.

“Why wouldn’t they? If you look carefully, you can see this little fellow also has polydactyly, or an extra few toes. He hasn’t done very well in the genetic lottery, I’m afraid, though this kind of thing is hardly unusual in pedigree lines.”

“So what, he’s purebred?” I couldn’t imagine people tossing many expensive cat breeds into rivers, especially in the cutest and fluffiest stage of their life cycle.

“I’m not certain. I’m far from an expert on the subject, after all.” Uri told us, in a tone that said he knew a great deal. “Almost definitely he’s from a purebred line, but he doesn’t match any breed I know of exactly. He looks a bit Abyssnian, but those stripes… I’m sure I haven’t treated him before, but he’s strangely familiar to me.”

“Hmm.” Ryan advanced with his multitool, its pincer extension out and gleaming in the harsh light of the examination room. “Just a second, doctor.” The pincers darted towards the kitten, and it yowled again. This time, though, I got the sense it was just general belligerence. Perhaps I was being a bit harsh. If someone tossed me in a river, I’d be grumpy too.

My brother’s pincers reached towards the kitten’s paw and came out holding a little scrap of cloth. It was flecked with grime, but the color was bright enough to stand out once held to the light. It was a gaudy, fluorescent green. “Interesting.” He said. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll step out for a moment.” And then he was gone without even a glance backwards. I couldn’t imagine what he was planning to do. Did he have an entire forensic investigation kit stuffed up his boxers or something?

“So your detective buddy of yours is doing this for a case or something?” Uri asked, placing the kitten down on the counter with a gentleness belying a man of his size. The kitten yawned, opening its red mouth to show sharp pinprick teeth, then curled up to rest.

“He’s family, actually, and nah. Saving this little dude was just our good deed for the day.” I said. “Not sure why he’s getting so worked up about it. I’m sure the cat just fell into the water or something.”

Uri looked unconvinced by my theory, but didn’t comment. He stripped off his gloves and leaned against the wall, layers of exhaustion settling onto his body like drifting ash from a volcano. The time was about two in the afternoon.

“You look good, Dylan.” He said, studying me with a critical eye. “Better, at least.”

I twisted my ring, unable to look him in the eye. “Meaning what?”

“You know.” He said. “You used to be so manic. I mean, seeing you wave that gun of yours around in college was funny sometimes, but some of the stuff that went down at those parties… You don’t still have that gun with you, right?”

My fingers twitched, but I resisted the urge to reach into my jacket. “Um. Yeah. By some miracle and a few extra fines, I even still have my license for it. I guess appearances can deceive, huh?”

A brief scowl crossed his face, then he shook his head. “Still stand by what I said, though.” He swept his hand across the examination room, showing the rows of bottles and pet carriers lining the shelf, the long line of work still waiting. “The way you used to be, I wouldn't have dared let you through the door. So whatever you’ve been doing to yourself lately, keep doing it.” He stretched, new energy entering his spindly limbs, then lumbered across the room towards the medicine shelf. “Stripes over here looks fine, despite everything, but I’ll write out a prescription for you to give his owner just in case.”

“That would require us figuring out who his owner is, unfortunately. You sure you have no idea who that might be?”

“Like I said, he looks familiar to me. And I think I’ve just remembered why.” Uri snapped his fingers. “A kid brought in a similar kitten about two weeks ago. About the same age as this one, and she looked almost exactly the same. I’d bet my left foot they came from the same litter.” He scribbled down a name and phone number on the prescription note, and passed it to me. “It’s a place to start, at least.”

“Hey, thanks.” I said. “What do I owe you?”

“Buy me a drink out sometime. Though a coffee would be best, I think.”

“Come on man, just take the money. No one’s going to give you an award for being all noble and shit.”

He shrugged, taking a sip of coffee from a nearby flask. “Never saw much use for awards anyway. Call this my own good deed for the day.”

*

This branch of the river really did snake through half the metropolitan area, both the good neighborhoods and the bad. It always looked far deeper than it was, the waters dark and murky even in the places where people cleaned it regularly. It was picturesque, sure, what with the trees on the riverbank under the downtown skyline. But it was a brooding kind of picturesque. Ryanesque, if you will.

Inside the pet carrier, the kitten wouldn’t shut up for the entire journey. The little demon screeched and yowled and snapped his sharp teeth around any incoming hands laden with treats. Stupid bastard. I was getting entirely fed up with this business, and we hadn’t even had lunch today.

“I looked up the name of the client Uri was talking about,” I told Ryan. “Like, if this kid and his family are the real owners, they could be offering a pret-ty substantial reward. In fact—"

Someone was rushing down the road. A child in a rather puffy blue shirt and trousers, squealing at the top of her lungs. “Bee, Bee, Bee!”

Her companion was a tall and grave woman who had her hair tied back and was wearing a blue jumpsuit. She was shaking her head, but whatever she was saying the kid handily ignored, nearly bowling me over in an attempt to get at the pet carrier. Even if I’d wanted to hold on it, I didn’t stand a chance.

The girl had a pudgy nose, a crooked tooth and a face and arms covered in freckles, but it was hard to look at her smile and not smile back. Something about her made it hard to guess her age. She could’ve been anything from a lanky six year old to a tiny twelve.

“Now, Beatrice.” The woman said, “You’re being quite rude. Not to mention being quite reckless. Why, these strangers could have been anyone.” She glanced over at us with clay brown eyes. “No offense intended, of course.”

“Bee!” Beatrice cried again, finally finding the catch of the pet carrier and drawing it back. She drew the kitten out, rubbing its fur tenderly against her cheek. “Bee, these people didn’t hurt you, right? Oh, someone gave you a new ribbon. You look so lovely in it.” She started sniffling quietly, using her other hand to wipe her face.

“Bee, huh.” I muttered under my breath. At first I’d wondered if she named her kitten after herself, but with its yellow fur and black stripes the other reason became pretty obvious. “I would’ve thought a name like Tiger would’ve worked better.” I rubbed at the scratches on my arm. “Make Bee short for something like Beelzebub, at least. Ah well, looks like everything’s worked itself out.”

“Miss Beatrice has spent most of the last day looking for her pet.” Her caretaker said. She looked older up close, with crows’ feet around her eyes and white strands of hair appearing at the edge of her scalp. She didn’t look kind, or mean, or much of anything, really. I’m sure her employers preferred it that way. She cleared her throat. “What I mean to say is, if you gentlemen aren’t too busy we’d be honored if you could come in to meet Mr. and Mrs. Klaver.”

That sounded promising, reward wise, and some tea and cookies wouldn’t go amiss either. “Lead the way.”

Ryan was speaking softly to Beatrice, with a soft voice that never once dipped into condescension. I suppose anyone who follows their childhood dream to the end will have a soft spot for children. “So you’re saying your brother and sister also got kittens like Bee?”

Beatrice nodded slowly and carefully. Her pet yawned and snuggled closer to her chest. “Mmm Hmm. There were only three kittens in the litter, and Mummy gave us each one. But Bee’s the best by far. He’s the only one who can do tricks. I taught him to play fetch, even. The other ones are too stupid.” Her gaze darkened for a moment. “Maybe that’s why Jakey or Edie threw Bee into the river. Maybe they were jealous.”

Ryan blinked. “Wait, so you saw this happen, Beatrice?”

“No!” She sniffled again, all the poison in her voice dissolving. “But it would be just like them. Or maybe Abi did it. He lives across the road. Daddy always says you never know how bad people can be…”

The nanny opened an iron-wrought side gate and let us in. The house didn’t look that special from the outside, but the security cameras peeking out from every corner and the sports cars in the driveway told a different story.

Definitely a good reward in it for us, then. It was all I could do not to stick my hands into my pockets and start humming a tune. Then another little girl stomped through the doorway, her face twisting in rage when she saw us. She and Beatrice were clearly sisters. This one was taller, but her hair and clothing were styled almost identically. Again, it made it tricky to tell her age.

“You said you lost Bee, you liar!” The girl cried. “I’ve been looking for Terry for ages. Haven’t you seen her at all?”

“I’m not a liar!” Beatrice yelled, and the nanny stepped in between them. “Now, now, Edwardine. I’m sure Terry is around here somewhere. We found Bee, after all, didn’t we?” The other Klaver offspring was ushered back to the garden enclosure she was playing in. Beatrice hugged her kitten tighter and muttered. “She’s probably the one who took Bee. Edie’s always hated me.”

“That’s a little much, surely.” Ryan said. “So all three of you lost your kittens? When did this happen exactly, Beatrice?”

Another sniffle. “This morning. After Daddy gave us his presents. I got a stupid little doll with a purple dress. I hate purple. Then we all went back up to the playroom and Bee and Terry and Garfield were all gone.” She wiped another round of tears off her face, but her expression was more angry than miserable now. “Maybe Meena did it! Miss Anita always lets her in the playroom on Mondays. To play with us. She probably knows the keycode to the door.” She mimed punching in a sequence. “She always said she wanted kittens!”

These theories all did a poor job of explaining how the kittens had ended up in the river, but perhaps it wasn’t the full story. Children could do monstrous things to each other, after all, and that went double for helpless animals in their power. This was the point in their lives when they were still learning basic empathy. Or the point that decided whether they would learn empathy at all.

The nanny came out of the garden, which was walled away from the rest of the grounds. She shut the iron gate with a clink and came back towards us, her expression as serene as ever.

“Allow me to prepare you gentlemen some refreshments.” She said, ushering us into the living room. Beatrice leaned down to place the kitten on the tiles, but a look from her caretaker was enough to send the girl grumbling up the staircase.

“It seems Mrs. Klaver’s shift has been extended, unfortunately. But Mr. Klaver is still resting here after his trip. I’m sure if I inform him of your efforts he’ll be down here in a jiffy. In the meantime… she walked out of the room for a moment and laid down a tray full of citrus cookies and strawberry juice.

How? How? She hadn’t been gone for more than a minute. Did these people keep trays of refreshments in the fridge, perpetually waiting for guests to munch on them? I shrugged, sighed, and took a bite of cookie. I’ll have you know they were delicious.

There were several trophies and awards scattered around the room on various tables and mantelpieces. Together they told a succinct but no less interesting story about the Klaver family. There was a single surgeon’s award from a hospital hung on the wall above the front door, and an entire mantelpiece festooned with pictures of an actor attending various receptions and movie openings. The three children each got their own little shrine for their medals and certificates. But taking pride of place next to them were… pet show trophies? And lots of them, too. I blinked, and peered more closely at the pictures next to them.

They showed lean, graceful cats and kittens covered with ribbons, far more graceful ones than the fluffed and hissing form of Beelzebub. But there was a clear resemblance. These ones, however, lacked Bee’s large black stripes.

The nanny shuffled back into the room, her hands crossed behind her back. “Mr. Klaver will be here in a few minutes, sirs.”

“Wonderful. I actually wanted to speak to you about something, Miss Anita.” My brother said, leaning back against the sofa. “So, all three kittens, under the care of three different children, end up being lost at the same time.”

The nanny nodded, though she kept her gaze pointed at the ground. “Is that hardly so unlikely? They are only children after all, and with their father’s return and their new presents they were rather distracted.”

“I understand, of course. But I have something rather different to ask. Where is the kittens’ mother, exactly? What litter were they taken from?”

“Ah.” She coughed. “Well, as you can see from what’s here on the wall, Mr. Klaver is a rather enthusiastic cat breeder. Our, um, his specimens have won many prizes, enough that one of the main pedigree, Scheherazade, was gifted to a European royal family to add new blood to their own lines.” She scratched the back of her head. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t say I know many details about the subject. My main responsibilities are to the children, after all.”

“And they’re all right, yes?” Ryan said. “I imagine they aren’t dealing too well with what happened.”

She coughed again, and this time there was a hint of real nervousness behind it. “Yes, sir. But Jacob is still at school, and Beatrice and Edwardine are in their rooms now. I put on a movie for them –”

“One of my own films, I hope?” A new voice spoke as its owner sauntered into the room. “I always wanted to get their opinion on Highway Blast. I haven’t made that many children’s films, after all.” He smiled winningly.

He had Ryan’s lean frame and muscle, though his was much more carefully sculpted. He looked disturbingly young, too. Like way too young to have children of Beatrice and Edie’s age. When had Hollywood surgery gotten this good?

Jonathan Klaver blew a dark curl of hair out from over his eye and draped himself over an armchair. He was dressed in gym shorts and a muscle shirt, a neon green sports bag draped over his shoulder. “And I’ve heard a lot about you, kiddo. You’re the one who took down that guy on the news recently. Who was it? Diamond Jack, right?”

“That was one of his names, yes.”

“Right, right, right. I keep mixing that stuff up. Crazy story, what went down there. I hear there’s talks about adapting it, but only talks, mind you, and the studio was one of those independent ones made by the nepo babies of the industry. So I wouldn’t keep my hopes up if I were you.” He grinned. “I guess what I’m getting at here is that I didn’t expect someone like you to be rescuing kittens from trees and such. More superhero than noir detective, don’t you think? Where is that thing anyway? Anita!”

She disappeared up the stairs, and Klaver rested back in his chair. I decided a bit of flattery would go well here. He seemed open enough to providing a reward, and could certainly afford it.

“So,” I said. “I hear you were shooting a new movie for the last few months?”

“The last six, actually!” He said, seeming almost proud of the fact. “Strangers in the Shadows was a tricky one to film, all right. And Christina Wicks is one hell of a director to work with. Not to mention that asshole Deng. But I survived!” He drummed his long, elegant fingers against the table. “I don’t take many movie offers these days.” He added. “Ever since I became a father, I’ve felt the need to settle down, you know? Focus my energy on cleaner, healthier pursuits. And of course Karlissa, my lovely wife, has always considered the operating room to be more important than home affairs. Oh, she tries, you know, like with giving - ” He stopped himself and sighed, his smile bitter. “People do strange things. Ah, there’s the little scamp!”

The nanny came back, a pet carrier in her hand. But Klaver didn’t bother with it. He just reached straight into the cage and grabbed the kitten by the scruff of the neck. To his credit, it was a simple, practiced movement. Something he must’ve done thousands of times over the years and one that didn’t seem to hurt the kitten at all. Beelzebub hissed and scratched at the air, but he probably would’ve done that regardless.

Klaver stared into the kitten’s eyes, and seemed to lose all interest in the rest of proceedings. His eyes glazed over a little, his mind on other matters as he spoke. “Well,” He said, “These poor little things must have tumbled into the river. You know how children are—so clumsy. So careless. Hardly ideal for taking care of such animals, always leaving them in the most unlikely places. Hmph. Well, it’s a good thing you were at the right place at the right time at that river. Otherwise we might never have met, and that would be a shame for us all.” He winked at us. “I assure you that on my part, I can be quite useful as a friend.” He snapped his fingers. “Anita, tell Suren to give these gentlemen a little something before they leave. A proper reward for such Good Samaritans.” He leapt out of the chair, kitten still in hand, and walked out of the room.

My brother frowned down at something he’d been twisting in his hand. He held it up, and I got a good look at it for the first time. It was that little neon green scrap of fabric. Just about the same color as the gym bag on Klaver’s shoulder.

Hardly ironclad evidence, but I didn’t need to be convinced this time. I can’t say this of many people Ryan collars in his daily work, but this time I didn’t even need to understand the why. If I’d seen that look in a man’s eyes on the street, I would’ve drawn my gun without hesitation.

Ryan looked over at Anita. I couldn’t see his expression from where I was standing now, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. He shook his head, and I followed him out of the room.

The hall was warmly, almost dimly lit. We passed a single door, open only a crack, showing where Klaver bred his cats. Some were shut up in enclosures, a few more surrounding a caretaker armed with a hairbrush. They looked over and blinked at us with their round yellow eyes and deep golden fur, not a hint of black upon their coats.

Ryan didn’t even slow down walking past the door, and I had to pick up my pace to catch him. We found Klaver standing in the middle of his gym room. There were rows without end of shiny equipment and weights, not a single one set out of place. And yes, there were several gym bags hung up at the end of the room, with two empty hooks at the end. One of them was in Klaver’s hands, and the other…

He was looking out of the window, kitten still in hand. The surface of the river shimmered from the setting sunlight, but the waters themselves were still dark as ink.

Then his eyes turned back to us.

“You’re still here?” He said, a note of genuine puzzlement in his voice. “I told Anita to get you boys something. I don’t – ” His teeth clenched, his lips peeling back in a snarl. “You’re here for this?” He shook the kitten in his hand like a beer can, ignoring its yowls. “It fell! They fell!”

Look, I’m not a cat person. Truth be told, I’m not even sure I’m a pet person. I still don’t fully understand the distinction between the animals we let lie on our beds and the ones we let lie on our dinner tables. But my fingers crept inside my jacket on their own, on pure instinct, and were about to reach around the handle of my gun. I stopped myself only at the last second.

There was something terrifying in those inky black eyes, the kind of terror that inspires hate.

“You’ve won a lot of prizes over the years for the pedigree you’ve bred, Mr. Klaver. And I don’t think you’re a very hands-off type either, are you? So you should understand why I was suspicious when I came out of the water and found Bee here covered in scratches, too evenly spaced to be debris, and part of his ear bitten off. Kittens fighting isn’t so unheard of, but in this situation? To such a degree, especially when it seems each was owned and taken care of separately by your children? It seemed more likely to me like someone put them into a confined space and only then tossed them into the river. And from there it didn’t take much for me to figure out that you did it.”

“Me?” Klaver tried to laugh, but there was a strangled quality to it that actually had a lot in common with the kitten’s mewling. “Me? Why would I – why would I possibly –”

Ryan’s finger went over to Bee, still wriggling in Klaver’s grip. “Because those three kittens weren’t given to your kids with your permission, right? In fact, I don’t think you even knew of their existence before then. Bee here has a few health problems that come from all the inbreeding, but his coat makes it fairly clear that he’s not one of the kittens you would have sent to your competitions, either.” There was a note of distaste that entered his voice with the words, and with everything I’d seen today I really couldn’t blame him.

“One of the damned things got outside while it was in heat.” Klaver spat. “Found a feral mongrel to mate with in the one day it was gone. Of all the chances… I should’ve fired Cleo for letting it happen. In fact, I think I will.”

“Wait a second,” I said, confused. “You weren’t taking these kittens to a pet show or anything, right? If they were just for your kids, what’s the harm?”

“Because they deserve better!” He roared, his grip growing tighter and tighter, ignoring the attacks Bee was now making on his wrist. “Proper, purebred pets, ones they can show people without being ashamed of! Imagine if someone came to my house, knowing who I am and what I do, and saw my children playing with mongrels?”

I snarled. “The only thing your children have to be ashamed of is you.”

Klaver’s eyes bulged out in rage, veins pulsing on his forehead, and he took a step forward. But then Ryan came in between us, his palms raised.

“Look. I think earlier events have shown that throwing kittens into the river isn’t the most foolproof strategy. And despite everything, I don’t think you want your daughter to leave for school and see their dead pet lying on the riverbank. So give him to us. You won’t have to see him, or us, ever again. Because,” He told him, his voice softer and sweeter, “As bad as it is for a cat breeder to be accused of animal cruelty, it’s far worse for an actor, especially one who just finished filming a movie. People take offense when they see cute animals mistreated, you know.” His smile grew wider. “Like you said, just as one day I might be grateful to have a friend like you, one day you might be grateful you didn’t make an enemy of me.”

Klaver didn’t look all that intimidated at first, his body tensing as if preparing for a fight. Then he glanced over at the doorway. There were no signs of anyone there, but it seemed like he felt like he was being watched nonetheless.

He practically threw Bee into Ryan’s arms and stormed out of the room, each step echoing through the hallway and up the stairs.

The house was empty when we came out, and while I caught a glimpse of blonde hair and a bright blue jacket, no one came to speak to us until we were out of the house. But like Klaver, I still felt eyes on me. I looked down at Bee, whose fur was ruffled and still marked by Klaver’s grip, but otherwise looked fine.

“You think the other kittens might’ve survived the river?” I asked, well aware of who might have been listening, and a little ashamed I’d never thought to ask the question before.

“I suppose we could go and look around. After all, if they managed to scratch through and escape the bag just as Bee did…” He shrugged. “But even one of them surviving was a long shot.”

Beatrice and the nanny, Anita, were standing right outside the garden gate. Beatrice held out her arms for the kitten, and Ryan leaned down to hand him over. The little girl squeezed the kitten tightly in her arms, stroking that black-striped fur. I glanced over at Anita, but once again she found the grass of the lawn more interesting to look at than us.“Did you guys hear everything that happened?”

Beatrice was trying to stay brave this time, scrunching up her face so the tears wouldn’t fall down her cheeks. “Daddy is—he isn’t – ” She held her kitten up to her eyes. “He won’t let you stay here.” She told Bee. “So we can’t see each other anymore. You’re going to have to be very brave, okay?”

“Hey,” I said, “You guys don’t have to be separated forever. We’re going to get Bee a good home, one where you can visit him.” I glanced over at Anita. “Right?”

Anita hesitated, her eyes still going back towards the direction of the house, but she nodded.

Beatrice nodded furiously. “Okay.” She handed her kitten over to me with trembling hands, and I knelt down to take him. It reminded me of a knighting ceremony, oddly enough, with a strange solemnness to the proceedings. Most knightings don’t involve an hissing feline with his claws out of course, but it was hard to stay mad at the little guy now. He’d gone through so much.

The little girl stepped back, still wiping at her face, still refusing to show any tears. “You’ll take good care of him, won’t you? He really likes cantaloupe melons, and bubble baths, and getting brushed.”

“I promise.” I said. Mrs. Lipton in our apartment complex would probably adore having someone like him to fuss over. And even if she didn’t, well, there were worse expenses than keeping a pet. We’d just have to tighten up our budget a little more, that’s all.

I felt terrible walking away, knowing she was still standing at the gate and watching us. But this moment couldn’t last forever, not with Klaver no doubt staring at us through one of his windows.

“You really think we can go through with an animal cruelty suit?” I asked Ryan once I was sure we were out of earshot.

He winced. “Probably not without getting some of the family to speak for us. Setting aside just how tricky convincing them would be, especially the children, there’s no telling just how worse that might make the situation in the house.”

Beelzebub the kitten clawed his way up my arm to the shoulder, showing impressive feats of mountaineering. I sighed and rubbed the top of his head, and this time at least he didn’t try to bite. “Look, I know. It’s just… how bad are things going to get if we don’t do anything?” Klaver had given me the shivers just with his talk about purebreds. “He’s a monster. With a guy like that as a father, how do any of those kids stand a chance?”

“We can still try to hold him accountable, Dylan. And even if we don’t, that doesn’t make what happened today meaningless.” My brother said, patting my other shoulder. We rounded the corner, leaving the river behind and entering the busier streets of our neighborhood. His expression when I turned to stare at him was almost wistful. “I didn’t expect you to go right out and make that promise to her.” He added.

I scowled. “I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me, but I meant what I said, okay?” I’d broken more promises than I could count over the last few years, but I’d never forgive myself if I broke this one.

His eyebrows raised. “What I’m saying is that you gave her kindness freely. Something to have faith in, even when there was nothing in it for you. That has consequences, you know, even if you never get to see them. To show someone a better way… you just have to walk that path and hope they follow you.” He smiled, a new warmth in the silver of his eyes. “And sometimes, after a while, you’ll find yourself following them.”