Chapter 2

Andrew had completely lost all sense of reason when it came to that Misty.

We'd had a mouse problem before, so he bought rat poison and stashed it in the back corner of the bottom cabinet, covered with a box.

That morning, I was in the kitchen making soup when Andrew sat in the living room with Misty in his lap, watching TV.

I turned around to grab some pickles, and that was when I heard the crash of something hitting the floor in the living room.

By the time I rushed out, Misty was pawing at the bag of rat poison, and the bag was already torn open. White powder covered the floor, and some of it clung to its paws.

Panic shot through me, and I lunged forward to grab the bag, but Misty was already gone.

I crept into the kitchen after it.

Misty lifted its paw and dragged it right through my soup, the white powder from the rat poison sliding off into the pot.

"What are you doing!" The words ripped out of me, and I reached out to shoo it away.

Andrew followed me in and saw the rat poison on the floor and the powder floating in my soup, but he just smiled and bent down to scoop Misty into his arms.

He said, "Misty, you little troublemaker."

He tapped Misty's head with his finger, his voice dripping with affection, not a hint of anger in it.

My voice shook. "It put rat poison in the soup! If someone drinks that, they could die!"

Andrew glanced at the pot and shrugged like it was nothing. "It's not that big of a deal. Just toss it out. Misty doesn't know any better. She was just playing around. She didn't mean anything by it."

Misty nuzzled against him in his arms and stared at me, and I swear there was something smug in those eyes.

I stared at Andrew's dismissive expression, and anger flared hot in my chest.

I asked, "It doesn't know? How would it know the rat poison was in the bottom of the cabinet? How would it know to tear open the box? How would it just happen to dump it in my soup?"

Andrew's face darkened, and his tone turned sharp with reproach. "What are you even saying right now? You think Misty deliberately tried to hurt you? It's just a cat. What kind of malicious intent could a cat possibly have?"

I looked at Misty in his arms, and it was squinting at me with what looked like a smirk.

How could it find the poison so precisely and pour it into my soup so accurately?

Andrew set Misty down on the floor and turned to me. "Alright, stop standing there. Dump the soup and make another bowl, and from now on, keep this stuff up high where Misty can't reach it."

He walked back to the living room with Misty and resumed watching TV.

I stood alone in the kitchen, staring at that bowl of soup, and a chill spread through my entire body.

I was becoming increasingly sure that something was deeply wrong with this Misty.

It wasn't that it didn't understand—it did this on purpose. It wanted to hurt me.

*****

This cat belonged to Andrew's college junior, Sophie.

After Sophie died in an accident, Andrew brought Misty home without a second thought.

He bought imported cat food and designer collars, and took Misty to regular grooming appointments.

He even brought Misty along when we visited my parents.

My mom's dog roamed free around the house, and when it spotted Misty, it trotted over and sniffed at her. Misty hissed once.

Andrew immediately clutched Misty tighter and snapped at me, "Can't you control your dog? What if Misty gets scared?"

My mom quickly pulled the dog away and tried to smooth things over. "He was just sniffing," she said. "He didn't mean any harm."

But Andrew wouldn't let it go. "What if he bites Misty? This Misty is all I have left of Sophie. If anything happens to her, can you even afford to make it right?"

All my relatives stared at me, and I just stood there. I couldn't find the words.

Andrew spent every dollar we had on that Misty. I contributed my paycheck to our household expenses, but all those luxury Misty supplies came out of my money.

Misty would bite me whenever it saw me and scratch me constantly.

One time, it bit through the skin on my arm. I went to get a rabies shot, and afterward, I broke out in hives all over my body. The doctor said I was having an allergic reaction.

I called Andrew and told him I was having a bad reaction to the vaccine and needed to go to the hospital.

He barely paused before saying, "Got it. I'm taking Misty to her grooming appointment right now. We'll talk later."

He hung up without asking another question.

I went to the hospital alone and picked up medication on my way home.

By the time I got back, Andrew was already home, sitting on the couch and feeding Misty treats.

I told him, "The allergic reaction was really bad."

He said, "Mm-hmm," without looking up.

Misty meowed at me and swiped its paw in my direction.

Andrew quickly grabbed Misty's paw and said, "Don't move around like that. You might scratch her."

I stared at him and asked, "Aren't you going to ask how bad my allergies are?"

Andrew finally looked up at me, and his tone was sharp with reproach. "It's not that big of a deal. It's just allergies. Take some medicine and you'll be fine. Stop making such a fuss over everything and ruining my time with Misty."

Misty nuzzled against him in his arms and looked at me with what seemed like a smirk.

My mind flashed back to the way his relatives had looked at me, the scratch marks on my arms, the rash that covered my body when the allergies hit, and the rat poison someone had dropped into the pot. My chest tightened with frustration and anger.

Andrew kept talking. "Poor Misty lost Sophie, so if I don't spoil her, who will? You're the woman of the house, can't you be a little more understanding? Fighting with a cat? How does that make any sense?"