Anja stepped into the stockroom and pulled the door closed behind her. Leaning her forehead against one of the floor-to-ceiling shelves, she let out a long groan. Why, oh why, was her life suddenly so complicated?

Susanne steered her car down the steep ramp into her apartment building’s parking garage and parked in her spot. Her ankle boots tapped a tired staccato over the concrete as she headed toward the metal door that led to the staircase.

As she reached out to open it, something brushed along her calves. Susanne jumped and glanced down.

In the dim light, a pair of glowing green cat eyes looked up at her.

“God! You scared me half to death! You might have nine lives, but I only have one. How the hell did you even get in here?”

“Mrrreow,” the cat answered, whatever that was supposed to mean. It rubbed its head against Susanne’s shin.

Dismayed, she stared at the tuft of hair left behind on her black slacks.

Steps sounded behind her, and a woman she recognized as one of her neighbors walked toward her, carrying a car seat with a sleeping baby. “Oh, hello,” the woman said, more to the cat than to Susanne. “How did he get in here?”

“I have no idea. It’s not mine,” Susanne hurried to add. She wasn’t sure if pets were allowed in the building, and she didn’t want to get in trouble on her first week.

Her neighbor chuckled. “I know. He’s mine.” She switched the carrier to the other arm so she could shake Susanne’s hand. “Katrin Maier.”

“Susanne Wolff. I just moved in last weekend.” She nodded down at the cat that still rubbed along her legs, ignoring its owner. “He’s actually the first neighbor I met. He, um, kinda invited himself to dinner.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry. Please don’t think we don’t feed him or are neglecting him. It’s just… He’s not a big fan of kids.”

Susanne could empathize. It wasn’t that she disliked kids, but personally, she had no desire to have one. She gave the cat a sympathetic look.

“Ever since I had Lena,” her neighbor cast a loving look at the sleeping baby, “Muesli tends to stay away.”

“Muesli?”

“Yeah. Because he—”

“Loves muesli,” Susanne finished for her. “Yeah, I found that out the other night.”

Her neighbor groaned. “Once again, I’m so sorry. I will gladly pay for any damage he might have caused.”

“It’s fine. No harm done.”

Katrin looked back and forth between Susanne and the cat. “He seems to like you. You wouldn’t, by any chance, want to adopt a cat, would you?”

Susanne nearly started to stammer as her answer almost exploded from her. “Oh, no, no. I won’t be here for long, just until Easter. That wouldn’t be fair to poor Muesli.”