It was the kind of afternoon that felt too perfect to question; clear skies, warm sun, and a soft breeze that carried the smell of cut grass through the open patio door. Lisa sat on the back steps, tea in hand, eyes half-lidded as she watched Nina tumble through the wild patch of daisies near the fence. The kitten’s white fur gleamed in the sunlight, her bell jingling faintly as she pounced on a leaf skittering in the wind.
Lisa glanced down at her phone for only a moment. One new message. She didn’t even finish reading it before something in the air shifted. It felt subtle, wrong. The breeze died. The trees rustled sharply. Lisa lifted her head. The yard was silent. Too silent. She stood slowly, scanning the grass, the flower beds, the spot beneath the tree where Nina had been seconds ago.
“Nina?” she called, gentle at first. No answer. She took a step forward. “Sweetheart?” The silence pressed in. A faint rustle in the brush caught her attention, like something brushing against a branch, but nothing emerged. No bell. No cry. No little white blur bounding back into view. The space where Nina had just been was now simply… empty.