“When she told me about,” Amelia paused, glancing around us and the few people scattered through the park quickly, “you know, I was kind of shocked at first, but then I just thought it was really cool! Like, there was this whole other world I never knew existed. I read about stuff like that, even acted in plays as all sorts of fantasy stuff, and now – now suddenly I saw all of that through new eyes. There’s still so much I don’t know, but that’s okay, Zar tells me stuff whenever I ask, for the most part.” She pulled one knee up and rested her chin on it, watching the ducks swimming in the river. “There’s still some stuff she doesn’t like to talk about. I think she thinks it’ll scare me off. I had a pretty normal life before her, you know? She said some parts of, um, that aren’t like what I’m used to. I get that it’s more complicated. I mean, look at you. If you weren’t, uh, a cat, things might be different, yet here we are.” She seemed thoughtful. “I know she’s trying to protect me, and to be honest, I couldn’t say if it would scare me off. I just don’t know, you know? But I trust her judgment, and if she thinks I don’t need to know, then she’s probably right.
“The only thing we’ve really disagreed about is whether to tell my parents and siblings. See, I think if we ever had kids, we’d kind of need to tell them because the kids might not behave normally until they’re older, right? But Zar says it’s not a good idea, because she can’t do the, uh, mark things for all of them, and it’d be safer for them to not know. It’d mean we’d have to make sure the kids understand not to tell them anything, though, and that could be hard when they’re little, so I don’t know. I get what she says, but it also seems hard to me that my family wouldn’t even realize something that big. But…safety, too.” She sighed and looked at me. “I don’t suppose you have thoughts on that?” She asked hopefully.
Um, well, I’d never thought about that kind of issue before because I was kind of still a kid enough myself that the thought of having to consider my kids was pretty far removed from my brain. I did, however, know the consequences of a family member not knowing someone was a supernatural – potentially good and bad consequences.
Hesitantly, I pawed at her phone, and she pulled up an app for me and made the keyboard a little larger. It was hard to type, because I had to scroll through the keys or get her to do it for me, but eventually I managed to type out a few short sentences.
My dad never told his sister. She would have said something. But your family could be different. I didn’t want to explain the second half of that, that maybe things would have been different for me if she knew, but on the other hand, I also understood why Dad never chose to tell her after he had that choice as an adult.
She wasn’t someone who could be trusted.
Amelia looked thoughtful again. “That’s…well, yes,” she admitted slowly. “My sister is a bit of a conspiracy nut. She’s a great person, but, uh, I could see her posting all about it if we told her. I don’t think she’d be able to keep quiet even if I tried to explain the importance of it. She’d just be itching to talk about it to all her friends.” She frowned a bit, still clearly thinking hard. “My parents, I’m pretty sure would be fine, and one of my brothers, but the other one, he has this friend he tells everything. I don’t like his friend. His friend is kind of sleazy, involved with questionable stuff to me, but they’ve been friends since they were kids. I bet he would tell him, wouldn’t he? Uggh.” She sat back with a groan. “My family themselves might be okay, but I didn’t think about that. Some of them would talk. I still think my parents would be fine and I’d kind of like them to know, but I don’t want to put unnecessary strain on Zar if she has to protect them then. Maybe it is best for everyone if they just don’t know.” She sighed, tilting her head back to look up at the sky. “That’s the one downside to all of, uh, this. That there’s things I can’t tell people sometimes. Mostly it’s not an issue. I can talk about Zar with my friends and even hang out together with them and that stuff just doesn’t need to come up. But there are times I can’t really explain stuff. Like, with you. Remember when we had my uni friends over after graduation?”
That would have been hard to forget. So many people crammed into Amelia’s not-so-large apartment. Several of them really wanted to pet or hold me all night, and while I was okay with the petting, I wasn’t quite as thrilled about the holding. I managed to escape either to my little trunk room Amelia had given me or, when someone opened the top to raid that and fetch me, to Zahara’s shoulders. No one bothered me there because Zahara could be scary.
“I kind of wanted to tell them what you really were to Zahara and me. More like we’re your guardians, not like you’re a pet. But people sometimes talk about pets as their kids and that can be weird, so it can get complicated.”
I looked at her in surprise. Not so much that she’d been annoyed that people were treating me as a thing to be harassed all night – she’d actually made that clear, eventually offering me her bedroom to escape from all the “fans” and warning people to leave me alone – but that she saw herself and Zahara as my guardians.
That idea kind of made me happy. It was like living with foster parents, I realized, only ones that understood and made allowances for me being a shifter. Unofficial foster parents, though, and I knew they couldn’t become official because I couldn’t shift back.
Which was when a thought suddenly dawned on me as Amelia went on, one that made me fearful for a new reason this time.
If I were ever discovered, Amelia and Zahara could get in trouble. People would think they kidnapped me or wonder why they were harboring a clear runaway. That was all the more reason I couldn’t shift back until I was an adult. Not just for my own safety, but for theirs. They were nice enough to give me a home, despite the risk to them – which I hadn’t even considered until now – so there was no way I was going to put them at risk.
Staying as a cat was the best thing for all of us. Eventually, maybe it would be safe and I would risk telling them the truth, but I had a few years until that happened.
I just hoped things would go smoothly until then. Surely they would, right? No one would ever have reason to suspect a cat was more than a cat. Even supernaturals who realized I was a shifter shouldn’t put two and two together about who I was.
I was being paranoid, but I had extra reason to be now. I had to make sure no one ever found out so I wouldn’t get sent back and so Amelia and Zahara wouldn’t get in trouble for helping me.
I was definitely going to remain a cat for the foreseeable future.
~~~~~
I’d lost track of exactly how long I’d been with Amelia and Zahara, but it was long enough to make my previous life start to fade into distant nightmares. Amelia did auditions, got her parts, performed magnificently – according to Zahara, since we hadn’t managed to successfully sneak me into a theater yet – and started to make a name for herself in the performing arts world. Or try to, at least. Zahara worked her cases efficiently and generally won, but sometimes she’d come and talk out points with me even if I didn’t understand them. Eventually I figured out she just liked to talk through confusing case points out loud, and it helped her to have someone listen even if I could provide precious little feedback. I tried, really, but most of the time I only half understood what she was talking about because I really didn’t get legal jargon or some of the terms and procedural stuff she was talking about. Still, it was kind of nice that I’d become a sort of confidant, like with Amelia, and that I could feel like I was helping them even a little since I knew how much they were helping me – and risking for me.
I was lounging on the couch one day, Amelia petting me while she watched the news on TV, mostly just enjoying the gentle pettings while almost dozing off and vaguely listening to the TV in the back of my mind. I’d worked hard on my schoolwork and was pretty sure I was up a grade level or two from where I had been, which I was kind of proud of. Zahara had given me some standardized tests to take – on my tablet – so the past several days I’d been working on those, but I was done now and could just relax and enjoy the – fall? Whatever time of year this was.
Then some words caught my attention and suddenly I was wide awake, doing my best not to tense up, pin back my ears, and otherwise show my outright fear.
“…the one year anniversary of the disappearance of Leon Galanis,” the newsperson was saying. “This tragic story caught the attention of the entire nation, yet still, a year later, we’re without any answers. The police refused to provide a statement, but did confirm that the case is still considered active and ongoing. However, there are no leads as of yet and no suspects have been named. Leon’s aunt and guardian, Melia Galanis, did provide a statement today, which has been shared on all major news networks.”
The screen cut to a tearful video of my aunt standing there, looking like a concerned, distraught caregiver – all of which she was not.
“I just want Leon to come home where it’s safe. To whomever took him, I won’t press charges if he can just come back safely. He – he needs his medications, and he won’t be able to survive without proper care. Please let him come home!”
By this point, I had completely tensed up, almost ready to dash just from the image of her on the screen, but I had to remind myself that she couldn’t see me and didn’t know where I was. She didn’t even know I was a shifter. Or that shifters existed. She wouldn’t be able to find me.
The screen went back to the newsperson. “The question remains: what kind of heartless person would kidnap a sick, disabled child?”
Another newsperson cut in, his tone a little questioning. “There are some theories that Leon wasn’t kidnapped at all, based on videos the police released of the night he disappeared.”
The first newsperson seemed a little annoyed at this interruption into her sad spiel, but managed to quickly pull up a professional smile. “There was a possibility that Leon left his apartment building on his own,” she allowed, “but everyone agrees he must have been enticed to do so by some predator that he met on the internet or maybe at his school! Of course, authorities have looked into anyone at his school, in his apartment building, and any known contacts online, without success.” She went on, downplaying the fact that the video in question must have been video showing me walking or running – clearly the opposite of what my aunt claimed – still stuck on this idea that there was no way I would willingly leave my aunt.
Of course. Because that’s what they all thought. That was why I’d had to run away – the adults would never listen to me. It didn’t matter who it was, not a single one of them would listen. Not when countered with what my aunt said.
I didn’t even know if Amelia and Zahara would listen if I told them. I wanted to believe they would, but experience had told me that adults weren’t trustworthy when it came to that particular issue, so it was best to not risk it. Not until I couldn’t be forced to go back to her.
Speaking of Amelia, it suddenly dawned on me that I was sitting there next to her, her hand still on me, and I’d tensed up and been clearly paying attention to what was happening on the screen. Suddenly feeling a bit concerned, I cautiously looked over at Amelia, only to find her staring at me with wide eyes.
She looked at me, then at the screen, and I could almost see the gears turning in her head.
Part of me wanted to scream at her to please no, don’t think about it, please don’t put the pieces together, please don’t realize the truth! I shouldn’t have made my reaction so obvious, it would just draw attention to the story on TV! If she realized, if she figured it out after all this time, I didn’t know what would happen. They’d make me go back, wouldn’t they? Could they, if I refused to shift? My aunt didn’t know about supernaturals, so they couldn’t just hand me back. Right? Maybe Amelia and Zahara wouldn’t let me stay anymore if they figured out the truth, but they wouldn’t send me back. Maybe?
I looked at her, my own eyes wide, my ears back, hoping my eyes were pleading enough that she’d understand I just wanted her to drop it.
“Ari,” she said slowly, “are you – ” And then she stopped, bit her lip, and shook her head a bit. “Nevermind, forget I asked.”
For just a second, I still froze, then as she turned her attention to her phone, I blinked. She…really was letting it go? The moment had passed without her realizing I was invested in that story on the TV – because it was about me? Or it passed because she decided she didn’t want to know, maybe because she could tell I wasn’t happy about the question? Was I really safe from follow-up questions?
I couldn’t entirely believe that the matter was just dropped. Amelia didn’t say anything more on the subject, though, and instead began talking about dinner soon, then asked Zahara about her work once she arrived. She’d already turned off the TV and nothing more was said on the subject, but I couldn’t shake the fear that it wasn’t just over and done with. Maybe it was because over the next few days I caught her looking at me pensively a couple of times, or maybe it was because she suddenly seemed to be on her phone a lot more than normal, frowning, sometimes with her earphones in. Or maybe it was because one time when I was walking along the back of the couch, she immediately turned off her phone before I could see what was on it. For all I knew, there could be another reason, but somehow I found myself increasingly uneasy and unwilling to believe the danger was entirely passed.
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