She plopped down into the recliner, opened the browser on her laptop, and typed in stationery business trends to start doing some research.

Her finger hovered over the enter key, but she couldn’t bring herself to press it. Oh, come on. Working on weekends was the norm for her, so why this sudden reluctance? Maybe it was all the Indian food she’d devoured or the thought of Anja and Miriam watching a TV show at this very moment. She eyed the Netflix icon in her favorites bar. Should she…?

A soft tap on the glass of the French door interrupted her before she could decide.

When she looked up, she wasn’t surprised to see the cat on the other side of the glass door. This tap-and-meow game had been a nightly occurrence since she had moved in a week ago, even though Susanne hadn’t done anything to encourage it.

Okay, hardly anything. Putting a bowl of milk outside every now and then wasn’t an invitation, was it?

“Meeeeeoooowwww!”

This time the nightly concert sounded especially desperate.

Tap-tap-tap-tap.

Susanne took a closer look. “Oh boy.”

Apparently, the cat had been caught in the downpour. His white-and-brown fur was plastered flat against his slender body, making him appear thinner. Water dribbled from his drooping whiskers.

Could cats catch a cold?

Susanne had no idea, but he looked miserable.

Another plaintive cry and a tap-tap-tap came from outside.

Well, she had already rescued one unfortunate creature from the rain today, so rescuing another wasn’t a big deal, right? She put the laptop aside, stood, and crossed the room.

Muesli’s wet tail raised up high in the air when he saw her stride toward him.

She opened the door, and he shot inside as soon as the gap was wide enough for him to squeeze through. “Just this once.” She pointed a warning finger at him. “And just until you’re dry, understood?”

“Meow.”

“Good.”

The phone rang, and Susanne stepped into the hall to answer. She expected it to be her mother, who called almost every day to see how things were going with the store, but instead, Franzi’s name flashed across the screen. “Hey, Sis. How’s the drilling business?”

Franzi chuckled. “Can’t complain. How’s it going down there in the deep south? Mama says Uncle Nobby is pretty down. Do things really look that bad?”

“Not very promising, to tell you the truth.”

“If he needs money, I can—”

“No.” Her sister’s generosity was touching, but she didn’t want her to risk her money when it might not help their uncle anyway. “If that were the solution, I would have given him some money and been back in Berlin by now. But any money you give him would only be a temporary fix. What he needs is some serious restructuring. Otherwise, we’re just sticking a Band-Aid on a gushing wound.”