“Oh, Lou.”
She whispered.
“What happened?”
The cat stepped into her lap as though she had invited him.
He placed both front paws on her chest.
Then pushed his forehead beneath her chin.
Eliza closed her eyes.
For one dangerous second, she let herself hold him.
Then she remembered the two hungry kittens inside.
The Pruitts.
The shelter.
The rule.
Especially the rule.
She stood.
“Come on.”
Louie followed her through the front door.
He did not explore.
He did not hesitate.
He walked directly toward the kitchen.
Turned beside the pantry.
Crossed the living room.
Jumped onto the right side of the couch.
His old spot.
Eliza stared.
Louie circled twice and curled into the cushion.
As though three weeks away had been a minor inconvenience.
She called June Pruitt.
June answered immediately.
“Eliza?”
“June.”
“Oh, thank God.”
June’s voice cracked.
“You found him?”
Eliza looked at Louie.
“When did he disappear?”
“Yesterday afternoon.”
“What?”
“We called the shelter.”
“I didn’t get an alert.”
“I know.”
“They said the system was delayed.”
June was breathing quickly.
“Marcus opened the back door to carry in groceries.”
“Louie ran past him.”
“We looked until after midnight.”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
A pause.
“With Louie.”
Silence.
Then:
“He came back to you?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I was hoping you could explain that part.”
June gave a nervous laugh.
“That’s impossible.”
“Apparently not.”
Eliza looked toward the road.
Four miles.
Several major intersections.
A creek.
Two wooded strips.
Entire neighborhoods Louie had never visited.
“He couldn’t know the route.”
June said.
“He was driven to our house in a carrier.”
“I know.”
“He never saw the trip.”
“I know.”
“How did he—”
“I don’t know.”
Eliza interrupted gently.
“But he’s okay.”
June exhaled.
“I’m coming.”
Twenty minutes later, Marcus and June arrived.
June rushed inside.
Louie lifted his head from the couch.
“Louie!”
June knelt.
The cat allowed her to pick him up.
He did not resist.
He even purred when she stroked his neck.
But his eyes remained on Eliza.
June noticed.
Something sad crossed her face.
“He missed you.”
Eliza shook her head quickly.
“He was confused.”
Marcus examined Louie’s paws.
“He traveled four miles.”
“Probably farther if he couldn’t take direct roads.”
Eliza nodded.
“He needs a vet check.”
“We’ll take him.”
June said.
“Of course.”
Eliza packed the small fleece blanket Louie had used as a foster.
Then stopped herself.
“No.”
She said.
June looked confused.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Eliza put the blanket back.
“That stays here.”
She did not know why she said it.
Maybe because the blanket smelled like her house.
Maybe because she was suddenly afraid giving it away would feel too much like surrender.
She kissed Louie’s forehead.
“Don’t do that again.”
Louie looked at her.
June carried him toward the door.
At the threshold, Louie twisted in her arms.
Not violently.
Just enough to keep looking backward.
Eliza stood in the hallway.