Ever since the fire, Kasia hadn’t contacted Jayden again. It was because of him that she’d received texts from Y.S., she was certain of that. Now, as she stayed with Gabe, she was beginning to feel an odd sensation. That had to be because Gabe was frighteningly honest.
“Tell me about the house, and those in it,” Gabe asked one day.
“The kids love to scramble into my cushion bed, and stay there suffocating me until Jayden came home. When he’s around, they don’t misbehave, like, at all. That’s so unfair.” At the memory, she chuckled bitterly.
“Why do you call them ‘kids’?” he asked, a bit baffled. “How old are they?”
“What do you mean, why?” She was just as confused, if not more so. “They are…let’s see. Two, four, seven, eight? Around that age.”
“Then, about half of them aren’t little anymore.”
“In cat years, Kasia. You do know that cats don’t live as long, right?”
“… …” Gabe stared at her for a moment in utter silence. Then, he said, “Show me those texts.”
“Y.S.? Yours Sincerely?”
Kasia chuckled again. “I wouldn’t think so.”
“Kasia, listen,” Gabe said. “Those ‘kids’ at the ‘orphanage’, Kasia. They were cats to me. I saw cats. I’m sure Jayden Miller saw cats too. I mean, does he have a reason to keep twelve human kids at his place?”