Kasia opened the door. “Should I—I mean, should I…?” she asked, somehow forgetting to insert the subject into her sentences.
“Don’t.” However, the male standing at the door seemed to understand just what she was asking. “Take nothing with you. Just come.” He reached out towards her, and she took his hand. “Don’t look back,” he told her, in the calmest tone humanly possible, as if coaxing a child.
That man was not Jayden. We know so because, when Jayden returned to the little house that day—one that Kasia referred to as an orphanage, yet he could never see the reason for that—he found in its place a burned house reduced to ashes, with the police surrounding it. It smelled of burnt bodies.
“What happened here?” he asked.
“There was a fire. We are still investigating it.”
“Was there anyone inside? And—”
“No, there was no one. No one escaped from the house, and when we searched just now, there are no human bodies in there. There are twelve dead cats though.”
For a moment, he almost forgot to breathe. He couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or angry: Kasia had escaped, and she hadn’t taken a single cat with her. But then again, maybe she left before the fire, maybe Y.S. had been chasing her out of it…as he was thinking all this, he caught a glimpse of something that shouldn’t be there.
There sat a cat, with snow-white fur, staring at him. She sat at the door of the burnt house, and no one else seemed to see her.