“Oh. Oh.” That was all Vi said as she stared at the cafe.

The entrance was battered and dented like a den of thieves had assaulted it in the middle of the night with sharp weapons. Smashed bits of wood and concrete lay on the sidewalk. Broken panes of glass littered the ground below. The walls were scrawled with angry words and phrases, in black markers or colorful spray paint. Some were in foreign languages and some were in the common tongue:

Murderer.

Dirty Anima.

Fake.

War criminal. B***.

Demon.

The sign for the cafe had been altered as well. Someone had crossed out “Love” in the name with a black painted “X”, and had replaced it with large looping red letters. Hate.

Enrique rubbed his forehead. “Gosh. That’s new.” Alicia blinked but didn’t comment.

Small crowds of Elarrians and some red-bearded, wide-eyed beings in cloaks passed by. The citizens glanced at the building and murmured to one another.

“That’s her restaurant, isn’t it? The former commander who abandoned the delegation?” a member of the High Race whispered to her friend.

Her friend whispered back. “I heard she told the Rangers to leave the wounded behind.”

“Really? I heard she shot the lord of the representatives!” a nearby Elarrian murmured.

“We shouldn’t have trusted Anima in the first place. Bunch of backstabbers,” another grumbled. “They only care for themselves.”

“My friends say she got in a fight with some Bluecoats!” a young Elarrian exclaimed to her mother. “She must be a really bad Anima. Do you think they’re all like that?”

“I can’t say,” her mother replied. “It is true the Anima took over much of our lands, and killed many of us. I suppose the older ones may not like us as much.”

“She’s a blight on this land,” a male Elarrian declared in a haughty voice, angry. “These types of Anima should be beaten and thrown in jail!”

“Yes!” a female Elarrian agreed. “Why hasn’t the king and queen made a statement about this yet? What if the monsters and criminals come for us next?”

The Elarrians huddled closer together, their faces growing fearful at the mention of this.

“Arrr. They say she made the Rangers disobey orders. Not a good influence, I say. What if she speaks to the adventurers next? The king should keep her nose out of his business.” This was from a Stone Lord. His small group of friends scratched their beards or gazed with big eyes at the graffiti on the walls.

“Old caves hold dark grudges,” a fellow Stone Lord commented, nodding sagely. “It is dangerous for us to have such creatures in power.”

“Aye, aye,” one of his friends agreed. “Perhaps we should take up the hammer as our fathers did.”

Some Anima and humans walked by as well. A few were previous customers and shot Vi a look of sympathy, but as they saw the grumbling and whispering members of the other races they steered clear of the cafe. No doubt they were mindful of being associated with her.

Vi stared at the vandalized building. She looked like she was about to burst into tears at the sight. “My cafe…it’s ruined…”

Alicia looked at her blankly. “What’s the big deal? It’s just a stupid cafe.”

The fox woman spoke quietly, as if to herself rather than the others. “Aurelius once told me, if the war ended, he wanted to see me retired and working at a little cafe. He said I should spend some time fulfilling my own dreams.”

“He sounds f***ing stupid,” Alicia muttered. She was a bit miffed about her leg, though it was good now, and wondering how the other assassins were doing.

Vi responded calmly, but her blue aura flared to life around her. “Please do not ever insult my old partner to my face again.”

Alicia didn’t apologize, but she did deliberately avoid eye contact with Vi. Enrique felt a sudden urge to kick the cat girl in the shin, not that he could if he tried.

The citizens around Vi looked at her in fright. “Did you see that? She’s a threat to us all,” one cried.

The fox woman let the aura die down as she sensed their eyes on her.

Vi went in and took out some cleaning supplies, mops, and buckets of water. She began using a roller to attempt to scrub the walls of graffiti. Enrique pitched in, mopping the floor.

Alicia watched them for a moment, then joined Vi in cleaning the walls. The assassin wasn’t sure why she was helping. Azurelane was a direct threat to her. The cat girl reasoned with cold logic that befriending Vi would expose vulnerabilities that she could capitalize on later. At the same time, it just didn’t feel good not to help.

“Thank you,” Vi said quietly.

Despite all three working together, progress was slow. The exterior was absolutely wrecked.

There was the sound of footsteps. Tilly and De’Vorah approached, wearing green dresses, gazing at the graffiti.

“I suppose we are closed today?” Tilly ventured.

“Yes.” Vi turned to face them. “I might be able to call in a few favors and get it repaired, but it would take a while. Unfortunately I won’t be able to pay you either. I’m sorry. About everything.”

Tilly shuffled her feet. “El Faleen, I am not as badly affected as some others, but I accept your apology. I do not approve of what you did. I am fine with not working for the time being. My family would not be comfortable.”

De’Vorah folded her arms. “You deserve it,” she told Vi with a glare.

“Okay.” That was all Vi said. With a heavy heart, she watched the two drift off together.

Vi texted Cecelia about the closing of the cafe. The young cat girl replied with a bright “OK!” The text was followed by another message. What’s going on? I’m getting all these weird rumors talking about you at school.

Vi didn’t want to get into details. Talk to you later.

Alicia’s stomach growled. “I’m hungry.” Her eyes swept the shops and restaurants around them. “Let’s eat there.” She pointed to a fancy buffet place. She didn’t know it was a buffet, but she could see a lot of customers and trays of food through the windows.

“I don’t have a lot of money. I can make you some food inside,” Vi replied softly.

Enrique felt his heart drop as he observed Vi’s fox ears and tails slumped over. I should cheer her up somehow. He reached out and tapped her shoulder. “Hey, even if we don’t have the cafe open, we can still serve customers, right? Maybe you could do online ordering. Or Alicia and I could deliver food. Nobody knows about us two.”

Vi’s ears wobbled up a little. She gazed at him with big puppy eyes. “M…maybe.”

“You could cook,” he suggested. He peered into the building. “Uh, the kitchen and tables look fine. Maybe we can text each other and make it work for today.”

“Okay. I like cooking. Can I give people food too? I like to see them eat.” Her tails swished around and she looked at him anxiously.

“Uh. Dunno.” He shrugged. “If you want. We should try not to draw attention to ourselves if you do.”

“That sounds good. I can bake some desserts.” She sounded happier and her ears perked up.

Alicia started to complain. “I never signed up for this. I want to f***ing eat.”

----------------------------------------

Sven was on a mission. It was not, at least for now, dangerous, but he was having a hard time getting his bearings. The people in this city seemed friendly and open, if a little strange in appearance. They answered his questions without much reservation.

“Excuse me. I’m new here. Is it true you can fulfill your personal desires in this place?”

“Oh? For partners, uh-huh. I guess you could put it that way.” A nearby woman with small horns on her head smiled at him.

He was prepared. He had found a large poster paper and a marker and made a drawing. He showed it. “I’m looking for this.”

She stared at the mass of black scribbles and recoiled in horror. So did the other passerby around her. “What’s that? Some kind of monster?”

“Erm, no.” He checked the poster, then scribbled a word. Apparently, his lack of drawing skills were becoming a serious liability. “A cat. A black cat.”

There was a moment of awkward silence. The speaker gave a high-pitched laugh. “Um, you might have more luck on Clover Street. It’s up north. Lots of cat ladies there.”

“Thank you.”

He went, but he was receiving far too much attention. It irked him a little, but he kept his mood and demeanor mild. He needed to, to continue the mission. He had wanted to achieve this for years.

There were a lot of cat girls. And regular girls. And other kinds of girls. They were squealing or whispering fervently to one another.

“Kyaaaah! Look at that man over there!”

“He looks so confident and tall. I’m jealous I’m not his partner. You think he has one yet?”

“Partner? I wish I could be his girlfriend!”

“Gross. Don’t be weird. Hum…I mean, he’s not bad. Definitely works out. Seems like a very orderly guy.”

And so. He found himself surrounded at a large red booth in a bar, with women clinging to him, trying to stroke his black buzz cut or feel his muscles. He tried not to glare at them, settling for a bemused but understanding expression. Apparently the ones that had strange features were trying to check if they were his partner.

“Please, enough,” he told the crowd.

A redhead with the ears and tail of a tiger let go, disappointment on her face as she saw they weren’t meant to be. She still tried to be helpful, which he appreciated. “You’re looking for a cat? We have a couple partners with animals, but I haven’t seen any around, unfortunately. Especially not a black one.”

“I can be your cat,” a woman with black cat ears and curving black hair said, winking. “I wouldn’t mind serving you. Or maybe we can be friends?”

“Ooh, choose me,” another slim cat girl said, leaning close, her swinging tail a lighter shade that was more dark gray.

“Ugh! I’d be so proud to have a partner like him,” a blonde cat girl declared, after poking him on the shoulder to test. “Who’s the lucky mage? Why’d she leave?”

He held his hands up. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not looking for anything that intimate.”

“Phooey! He’s lying,” an orange-eared fox woman huffed. “Why else would you go around showing that picture?”

“Are you not interested in us?” a human woman demanded. This one had a sapphire pointed hat and a dress that reminded him of an attractive witch one would see in a web comic or video game.

He glanced out of the window, exasperated about the situation, and saw movement outside the bar. Anima and their partners were walking quickly back and forth across the street. Oh, great. He needed to find an outfit to disguise himself, maybe one of those large hooded cloaks he had glimpsed in a shop.

He should’ve spent more time as a civvie, learning to truly be one, instead of learning to blend in. People usually didn’t bother him when he’d been with his team.

The Anima left him quickly enough, though the human women lingered, apparently convinced his poster had some other hidden meaning. As the door opened and shut repeatedly, he saw a black-eared fox woman peek from the window.

“Oh, an Original,” she murmured softly, then entered the bar. She was carrying a plate of baked goods.

The newcomer had a repelling effect as bar patrons caught sight of her, then quickly avoided eye contact. The women around Sven glanced at their phones, murmured quietly to each other, and drifted away. Soon the area was deserted.

She approached him shyly, her ears flopping down as the door swung shut. “Ah, excuse me. Would you like some—would you like some free samples?”

She held the tray out.

He eyed her suspiciously. The “samples” were entire desserts sitting on the baking sheet, mostly untouched. Cookies, doughnuts, and cupcakes.

“Is this a trick?”

She shook her head, blinking at him earnestly. “No, I thought I'd welcome you to the Kingdom. I can tell you’re new.”

She looked genuine. Well, the city was quite tame, and there was no good reason for anyone to poison him. No one even knew who he was.

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He took a cookie and ate it.

“Oh!” The waitress—he assumed she was a waitress from the outfit—watched him. A pleased smile broke out on her face.

“Do you—do you like it?”

He gave her a short nod.

The waitress beamed, her tails wagging behind her. “Yay! I’m glad.”

She shuffled around for a moment, settling the tray in front of him. “May I sit with you?”

Sven had noticed the customers at the bar had stopped accosting him. He supposed it was convenient to keep her around, for now. He wasn’t planning on overstaying his welcome though. The man moved his arm to indicate the spot next to him.

“Well, what brings you here?” the waitress asked once she’d settled next to his seat.

In a silent answer, he showed the poster.

“A black cat?” Her eyes, rather than growing surprised, lit up. They literally glowed. “Oh! I know someone!”

He cocked his head, skeptical. “You do?”

Sven watched her keep smiling brightly. She probably didn’t understand how difficult this task truly was. “You should know I don’t want any ordinary cat. I have a very, very specific one in mind.”

He scribbled captions below his drawing. “It must have a particular shade of black fur. It must have green eyes. It must be female. It must be short. It must be cute, and not smile much. I prefer that it has an independent and uncaring disposition. It must have the proportions of a house cat, but be itself tough and something of the wild. It will enjoy fish and milk and sleeping. It must be at least an occasional night wanderer. It must be accustomed to a background of violence and crude language. It must, in sum, be an ideal companion for me, based on my extensive study of my own wants and needs.”

He sat back and waited for the inevitable overwhelmed or shocked reaction, but the waitress didn’t even bat an eye.

“Sounds good! Do you like pets?”

He shook his head. “Not a pet. A friend.”

She blinked. “Why?”

He exhaled and gazed up at the ceiling for a moment. His eyes grew distant. “No offense, but it’s none of your business.”

She bobbed her head. There was silence, punctuated only by the distant clink of glasses being taken by customers. Dim amber lights glowed around their table. He felt wistful, wondering when was the last time he’d been able to be still like this.

The waitress examined his rugged face and ramrod-straight profile. Then she started jabbering. “Hangug salam-ieyo? Naneun hangug-in-eul joh-ahanda!”

He jerked back, startled. He scratched his head. “Um, yeah. My mom’s side. But I was born in the States. I’m sorry, I didn’t expect you to be fluent.”

“Naneun manh-eun eon-eoleul algo issseubnida! Geulaedo yeong-eowa ilbon-eoe gajang igsughabnida.”

“Okay. Sure. I’m Sven, by the way. Sven Kim.” At least she wasn’t obsessing over him.

She peered into his eyes. “Dangsin-eun gundaee iss-eossda. Bobyeong?”

The man rubbed his arm self-consciously. “Is it that obvious? Yeah. I did three tours. It was something I was good at.” He did more than three, but she didn’t need to know that.

“I see.” She looked up at the ceiling too.

He grabbed another cookie. He felt comfortable with her, felt some kind of camaraderie. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because she used the language of his early childhood. Maybe because she’d looked so down when she’d come in.

“I was deployed with my team all the time. We moved around a lot. I’m proud of the work we did, but I never really had much time to myself. After our…last mission, I guess I wasn’t needed anymore. I always wanted a little black cat in my house. Someone to hang out with, maybe even understand me like a regular person couldn’t. But anyways. You know someone?”

The fox woman nodded. “Please follow me. Just a moment.”

She dug out a phone, preparing to leave her seat.

He glimpsed a picture on her phone. It was a run-down building with half-cleaned graffiti scrawled all over it. It might have once been a proper establishment, but he was getting bad signals from the empty rooms and the smashed windows. Like a hideout for illicit dealings, or an abandoned warehouse where people were routinely kidnapped.

He tapped a finger over the screen. “Is that the place?”

“Oh. Um. Yes.” Her eyes followed the motion. “The cafe was vandalized today.”

He frowned. His eyes were already flitting over the surrounding scenery. “Why do all the other restaurants look normal and yours is like it’s in a ghetto town?”

She looked around, as if searching for an excuse. “We’re—remodeling. Yeah, that’s what we’re doing. The owner doesn’t have much money. We’re taking a break, trying some new business models, and, uh, redoing the look. Later.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Please come by the cafe,” the waitress pleaded. “I can arrange a meeting with you. It’s very important, even if you don’t know who—I mean, it’s not shady at all!”

He folded his arms. “Yeah. Right.”

The waitress’s fox ears, now upright, twitched and she glanced to the door as an orange-cloaked mage in a hat barged in, carrying a stack of boxes which oozed the scent of fresh meat and vegetables.

“Hey, Vi! You left Ali behind!”

The waitress protested. “I didn’t! Do you think she ran away?”

“You totally did!” The mage, a brown-haired teenager based on appearance, jabbed a finger at her. “You ditched her midway through our delivery route! Doesn’t it make more sense if Ali and I go our own ways instead of me and you being together?”

“But she might stab you!” Her tails swished rapidly as she mentioned this.

“Then you can make her homeless! Kick her back out on the streets!” he yelled back.

Stab? Homeless? Sven was getting very worried by this conversation. He had nothing against the homeless—he had a buddy who’d gone that route, after serving overseas—but his self-preservation instincts were kicking into high gear. Maybe they were criminals. Do they live with some kind of psychopath?

The customers distancing themselves should have been the first bad sign to warn him. The damaged cafe was another sign something was amiss.

“What if the authorities find her? I’m already in enough trouble with the king and queen.” She sounded pleading.

Trouble with the government? He was more than a little uncomfortable at this point.

Vi dialed her phone. It rang, but no answer. “Come on, Ali!” she wailed. “I’m doing this for your own good!” Her tails swished around. “I hope nothing bad has happened.”

“I’ll go after her,” the boy volunteered.

Vi got up. “No, I’ll find her. Can you convince Sven here to meet us at the cafe?”

“Huh? Why? Did he order something?” The teen eyed Sven, puzzled.

“That’s one way to put it. Stay safe, okay?” Vi hurried off at a fast pace.

“Yo! Vi!” The boy turned, but she was already out the door.

“What the f***. She should’ve stayed and cooked. I seriously don’t understand her sometimes,” he grumbled.

The boy plopped his boxes beside him. “I’m Enrique.”

“Sven.” He offered a hand. The boy shook it.

There was a moment of awkward silence.

“So…have you seen this cat?”

----------------------------------------

“I’m telling you, you’ve got the wrong idea. We’re not bad guys.” Enrique walked quickly to keep up with Sven’s long strides. The man had entered a clothing store and was trying on a hooded green cloak.

Sven wanted to shoo him away, but he was only a kid. The man opted to bring the chosen cloak to the counter. He turned to the boy. “How do you pay?”

The short, blue-eared cat Anima at the counter started to speak. “If you’re new here, I’d be happy to give you a more inexpensive outfit—”

“Here, I’ll do it. At least hear me out. You could pick a place we could meet.” Enrique reached in his pocket and plunked down some coins.

Sven frowned. “You’re telling me you know someone with the exact cat I described.”

“Um. Yeah.” He watched the man tug on a pair of metallic gauntlets.

“Don’t joke with me. What are the chances of that? You’re a gang member.” Sven waited carefully to observe the boy’s reaction.

It was more of a statement than any belief he truly had, but a strong emotional response could give more information of what was really going on. Anger could imply hiding something. Shock could suggest ignorance of whatever the others were doing. He’d spent time learning to read body language.

“Holy s***, I’m not a gangster! How would you know that?” Enrique threw his hands up in the air. Sven noted he seemed more exasperated than surprised, which was a bit disturbing.

The man decided to be a little more straightforward. “Your face. You look like someone who grew up in a tough neighborhood.”

Enrique eyed Sven with some suspicion himself. “You got a problem with that?”

“No. I’m the same. It was something I noticed, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Enrique silently paid for Sven’s gloves. It seemed like a decent thing to do, since he was an Original too. The man seemed very calm for having dropped into the middle of a foreign city out of nowhere. Maybe he’d been wandering around for a few hours already and had time to adjust.

The shop staff member looked puzzled but wasn’t complaining. “Did you two come together?”

“Yes,” Enrique answered.

“No,” Sven replied bluntly.

They stared at each other.

“I’m just trying to get you to meet us,” Enrique explained.

Sven inspected his new clothing and smoothed the cloak. “Thanks, but I don’t want to.”

He set off out of the shop, Enrique again trying to catch up.

“Wait! Okay, I’ll be honest with you. We’ve got a housemate. Her name’s Alicia. Vi wants you to meet her, but the housemate is, um, kind of violent and unpredictable. I don’t even know why Vi bothers. Our housemate almost killed me the first time we met. But she’s the one—”

“She almost killed you?” Sven repeated the words to emphasize the obvious danger in this statement.

“It was a misunderstanding,” he muttered, regretting the slip-up.

“Does this Alicia like cats?” Sven still was refusing to look back at him.

The boy looked very confused. “Yes. Absolutely.”

There was a commotion nearby, a shuffle of feet and shouting. Three men in jackets and pants were being confronted by an Anima-human pair.

“Those aren’t allowed here!” The red-haired human woman in the pair had a hand on her hips, glaring.

“What we do is none of your business,” one of the men in jackets spat, clutching a silver box to his chest.

“Where are you from? We’ll report this to the Ministry!” the woman’s dog-eared Anima yelled, reaching out a hand to tug the box away.

One of the other men reached to his waist and pulled out a knife, thrusting it towards the speaker’s chest.

Sven suddenly vaulted forwards and swung a gloved fist, catching the man in the jaw. As the knife-wielder collapsed, one of his companions unsheathed a sword, which glowed with yellow light as he slashed.

Sven blocked the attacker’s sword arm as a beam shot out, whizzing barely past his head. Without even flinching, the man in the green cloak grabbed the swordsman’s shoulder and kneed him hard between the legs. While his opponent doubled over, Sven swept his leg, twisted, and hurled the man backwards in a powerful throw. The swordsman crashed against a shop wall.

The last man with the package had turned, starting to run, and yanked out a miniature crossbow, pointing it behind him. There was a twang and an arrow soared out. Sven dodged, then took a running leap and somersaulted high in the air, landing in front of the fleeing man. He delivered an uppercut to the chin that sent the attempted escapee flying. The silver box clattered in front of a food stand.

Enrique stood gaping with his mouth wide open. “This guy…is human, right?”

----------------------------------------

“Ali! What are you doing here?” Vi found the cat girl in her room. She was curled up in bed, a mass of blankets covering the bottom half of her body.

Alicia had been thinking about what she’d done. All the bad things. The blood and faces of the dead. She thought sleeping could at least put those out of her mind. Now this stupid fox had to butt in.

“Staying home. What do you want?” Alicia snapped.

Vi gingerly approached, as if worried Alicia would be scared off. “I found someone. He might be your partner.”

Alicia glared daggers at the fox woman. “F*** off. I can’t have a partner. You said so yourself.”

Vi peered into her eyes. “Would you like to have one?”

Alicia looked away. What did that mean, having a partner? She had vague ideas. Someone she could talk to, who she could share her problems with? Someone she could take care of, besides herself, for once? Maybe someone who could look out for her?

She was alone, now. All alone. No one to understand just how deeply s***y her life had become. The answer was obvious. “F***. Off.”

The room fell silent, but Vi didn’t move. They were like that for about two minutes.

Finally Alicia spoke again. “I can’t. I’ve done…too much. It’s too late for me.”

Vi’s voice was quiet. “It’s not.”

“Shut up.” Alicia felt anger rising within her. “What the h*** do you know? Every time you open your mouth, you say the most stupid-a*** things. Literally makes me want to puke. Leave me alone.”

Vi didn’t budge. “You and I, we’re not so different.”

“I said shut up,” Alicia snarled. “We’re nothing alike.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Vi silently fetched her sword in its sheath. “You think you’re disqualified because you got others killed? I’ve killed more living beings than everyone else in the Kingdom combined. Including you. But I was still given a partner.”

“That’s different.” Alicia looked at the sword, if only to make sure she wasn’t drawing it.

“Is it? You’ve had others treat you like a tool to be used. You’ve done terrible things not because you want to, but because you have to. If you feel guilty, and if you feel sick of yourself, then that’s proof you’re not a lost cause. You’re not evil, Ali.”

“Save me the c***. I don’t want to hear a speech.”

Vi set the sword down. She watched Alicia as the cat girl stared down at the blankets. “Little cat, give yourself a chance. You’ve suffered enough.”

“B***.”

Vi waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

“Godd***, you’re f***ing annoying!” Alicia flung off her blankets and stomped towards Vi. “You gonna be here all day? Why do you even care about me, anyways?”

The cat girl headed out the door. “B***! F***ing b***! Hurry up and show me this guy. You’re going to be disappointed anyways.”

----------------------------------------

Enrique picked up the silver box. “What was that all about?”

“We need to report that to the ministries. There’s one that handles illegal imports,” the dog-eared man told him.

Suddenly, Vi and Alicia came running over. Alicia spotted a group of unconscious men lying at a muscular, green-cloaked stranger’s feet.

Vi took the box and opened it as Enrique peeked in. There were a set of vials and bottles inside, with white or green liquid in glass-like material.

The fox woman fell silent. “This is bad.”

“What? What is it?” Enrique was trying to peer in and get a closer look.

She tapped a green vial. “Drugs. They aren’t allowed in the kingdom. These are called Drifters.”

Sven stared at Alicia. “Black cat.”

Alicia glared. “What?”

Vi glanced over. “Oh. Let’s find a place less crowded.”

She set off with Enrique beside her, the other housemate following with confusion, and Sven running after them.

They reached a more or less empty street and Vi spun around. “Okay. Ali, this is Sven. Sven, Alicia.”

Alicia blinked. The man was very tall and strong-looking. Something about the way he stood made Alicia think he had a hard and violent past. Despite that his dark eyes looked at the cat girl with an expression resembling friendliness. I mean…he doesn’t seem terrible.

Sven slowly reached out a hand, his eyes wide like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

I swear, if he tries to f***ing pet me I’m going to claw him, Alicia thought.

The hand stretched out and…

Don’t pet me. Don’t you dare.

…touched down on her shoulder.

“Wow. I’m glad.” A small smile appeared on Sven’s face. “Good to meet you.”

The strangest feeling poured into Alicia. It was warm, jumping in her like fire, and strangely familiar. She leaped back in shock.

“What the h***? I…I mean…” Alicia shook her head. “Okay. Whatever.”

Sven’s smile grew a little wider. Alicia looked back at him, suddenly unsure of what to do.

“Yayyyy!” Vi cheered. She leaped up and down.

Enrique put a hand to his face. “Vi. You’re embarrassing.”

Her expression turned serious as she looked back at the box.

The late afternoon sun had already set, causing the package to cast a long shadow on the ground. The fox woman’s eyes glowed. She took out her phone and dialed a number. After many rings, someone picked up.

It was Morgan. She was crying.