“She’s found the welcoming committee,” Mark laughed, leaning against the doorframe. He assumed a family of field mice had taken up residence in the cellar for the winter, or perhaps a stray squirrel had found a gap in the foundation. It was the most logical explanation for a cat’s sudden obsession. They tried to coax Luna away with a feathered toy and a fresh bowl of tuna, but she remained a furry sentry, refusing to let the unremarkable basement door out of her sight.
As the week progressed, the rationalization phase became more strained. Mark blamed the “scratching” sounds on the settling foundation or the wind whistling through the old vents. Sarah tried to convince herself that Luna was simply adjusting to the new environment. But the cat’s behavior grew more erratic; she stopped grooming herself and began to hiss whenever Mark approached the basement to check the fuse box. The house felt less like a sanctuary and more like a puzzle with a missing piece.