Milo woke that night to something banging in the common room. His little sibling? Was this a dream or reality? Milo wished for reality.
He crawled out from Maisie’s arm, nudged her forehead, and hopped down from the bed. Milo pranced to his kennel and grabbed one of his sibling’s catnip mice. He would be the one to give it to them.
Maisie left the door cracked in case he wanted to roam at night. Milo used his paw to open it wider and slipped half his body out. He stopped at what he saw and retreated until only his head was visible. His mouse dropped from his mouth.
Feya, instead of his sibling, was in the common area with Daisy, wearing a pair of white flower jammies.
Milo finally saw the extent of her injury. She wasn’t missing her ankle or half her leg; she was missing her whole leg. The prosthetic foot changed to a white bar up to her shin, blue for her knee, and the largest part was the black prosthetic thigh.
Milo almost puffed up but relaxed when he saw how hard Feya tried to walk.
Daisy stood on the couch, and Feya was at the front door. The dog gestured at a pair of crutches propped against the kitchen counter, but Feya shook her head.
“No, Daisy, I’m going to do this. If I learn to walk, maybe Maisie won’t see me as a freak.”
A freak? That didn’t sound like Maisie to Milo. She and he merely needed to get used to the prosthetic.
Feya carefully trekked across the wooden floor toward Daisy. Halfway to her, her foot slipped, and she tumbled onto her backside. “Ouch!”
“Arf!” Daisy almost flew off the couch and joined her. That was the first time Milo saw her donning a Service Dog vest.
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Feya smiled feebly. “I’m okay, Daisy. I'll get it eventually. It’s only been six months. Here, let’s take this off.” She removed Daisy’s vest and set it on her bedroom slippers near the dishwasher. Feya stood and gripped the counter.
Milo jumped when a voice sounded behind him. “What’s with all the banging?” Maisie appeared and fully opened the door. “What are you doing here, Milo?”
The silence went on forever once she and Feya met eyes. Maisie’s widened. She stared at Feya’s leg, openmouthed.
“Go on,” Feya grumbled. “Tell me how much of a freak I am.”
“No!” Maisie peered up and covered her mouth. “I just didn’t realize—”
“It’s my whole leg? Yes, Maisie, it is. But I guess that doesn’t matter to you, huh?”
Oh, gee. Ouch. Milo missed Feya’s bubbliness.
Maisie looked like someone punched her in the heart. “Feya, I’m sorry about what I said. I was overwhelmed and wasn’t thinking.”
“I know.” Feya’s face eased. “I’m sorry, too. I should’ve told you. I don’t like people seeing it. It’s been mine, Daisy’s, and my family’s secret for six months.”
“Was that when you lost it?”
“No.” Feya collected one crutch and placed it under her left arm. “I lost it a year ago but didn’t want to come to Disney wheelchair-bound. I just wanted to be a kid again—to escape the war.”
“The war?” Maisie slowly started to approach her.
“Yeah.” Feya sighed. “War sucks, Maisie.”
“Are you a veteran?”
“No, a refugee.” Feya sniffed and lowered her head, clutching her thigh. “You don’t know what it’s like, Maisie, waiting for someone to bomb your home and knowing it’s going to happen sooner or later. We thought we would be safer in the small towns vs. big cities but were wrong.”
“Feya...”
“I lost my best friend. They bombed her first. Killed her instantly.”
“Feya...” Tears streamed down Maisie’s cheeks.
“You haven’t seen death and destruction like me,” she angrily continued. “I came to Disney to try to move on, make friends, and find someone I could sympathize with. I thought I saw it in you... but I was wrong.” Feya snatched her other crutch and slipped back into her room.
Daisy growled at Milo and Maisie before hustling after her.
Feya slammed the door shut and locked it. A scraping sound said she also put a chair in front of it.
Maisie collapsed to her knees.
“Mrow?” Milo trotted to her and sat like a dog.
“Milo,” Maisie stuttered, “I thought I had it bad with my brother, but Feya...” Her tears fell quicker. “I’m so selfish. I don’t know what to do.” She buried her face in her palms.
“Mrow.” Milo patted her arms, and Maisie lowered them. He jumped into them.
“You’re right, boy.” Maisie hugged him close. “We’ll figure it out... together.”