The cat leaned into her fingers.
“What am I supposed to call you?”
Nothing.
“Midnight?”
The cat looked away.
“No.”
“Shadow?”
No reaction.
“Bruce?”
Tessa laughed at herself.
“That’s terrible.”
The cat looked back.
“Hugo.”
She did not know why.
The name simply arrived.
Strong.
Old-fashioned.
Slightly ridiculous.
Perfect.
“Hugo.”
His ears twitched.
Tessa smiled.
“That’s better.”
The neighbor watched from his yard.
“He likes it.”
Tessa stood.
“Hugo.”
The cat came toward her.
No growl.
No hesitation.
She picked him up.
He was lighter than she expected.
Beneath the fur, she could feel ribs.
Tessa held him against her chest.
His body went rigid for one second.
Then softened.
A deep purr started.
The vibration traveled through her jacket.
Tessa closed her eyes.
“All right.”
She carried him toward the taxi.
“You’re coming with me.”
That night, Hugo entered Tessa’s apartment like he had entered the taxi.
Carefully.
Confidently.
He sniffed the doorway.
Inspected the tiny kitchen.
Walked down the short hallway.
Paused at the balcony door.
Then entered the bedroom.
He jumped onto the bed.
Turned around three times.
Lay down.
Tessa stood in the doorway.
“That easy?”
Hugo closed his eyes.
Apparently.
Tessa did not own cat food.
She found plain cooked chicken in the refrigerator and gave him a small portion with water.
He ate too fast.
That worried her.
“Slow down.”
Hugo ignored the instruction.
After eating, he drank for almost a full minute.
Then returned to the bed.
Tessa showered.
Changed clothes.
Sat beside him.
Under the apartment lights, she could see more clearly how thin he was.
There were small scabs near one ear.
His paw pads were rough.
The collar had rubbed fur thin beneath his neck.
He had survived.
But survival had cost something.
Tessa called an emergency veterinary clinic.
The receptionist told her that if the cat was alert, drinking, eating, and breathing normally, she could schedule an examination the next morning.
“Keep him inside.”
“I will.”
“Separate him from other animals.”
“No problem.”
“Any vomiting?”
“No.”
“Injuries?”
“Nothing obvious.”
“Bring the tag.”
“I have it.”
That night, Tessa lay awake.
Hugo slept at the foot of her bed.
Around midnight, she woke to movement.
The cat was standing near the bedroom door.
He stared down the hallway.
Tessa watched.
Then he walked into the living room.