While I’m sure the Remnants have become used to seeing my kitten traverse the catacombs, I feel ashamed about leaving him to fend for himself over the last week. Sure, the first three days I was unconscious, but since then, I’ve barely seen him. The fact that I had to ask Cami this morning how he’s been cared for made me realize I’ve been neglecting my duties. And that’s why, when he picks up his pace along the corridor, I jog after him, intending to take him back to the safety of my room.

Dinger, however, has other plans. Because with every zigzagging turn we take, it becomes clear that he’s leading me somewhere. And when he squeezes through a barely open door, I pause on the other side, unsure what to do.

I’ve been here before—on my first trip to the catacombs. I know exactly whose room this is. I’m just not sure if I want to disturb its occupant.

The decision is taken from me when Liana’s whimsical voice calls from within, “Don’t stand out there all day, Alyssa Scott. Come in and have some cake.”

*

Tentatively, I push open the door and step inside the dimly lit room to find the middle-aged woman sitting in an armchair. Dinger is already curled up on her lap, his head tilted back in blissful delight as she scratches under his chin.

“Cami said you’ve been looking after him,” I say to Liana, filling the silence. “Thank you for that.”

“He’s a dear,” she replies, her pale hair glowing from the light of the flames mounted to the walls. She still looks as ethereal as when I first saw her, her colorless eyes with their black pupils unlike any others I’ve seen.

Liana points to the armchair opposite hers and I hesitantly take a seat, wondering what possessed me to follow Dinger in here. I’m trying to come up with an excuse to leave as I peer around the room, noting the things I missed last time: the acrylic paintings hanging from the walls, the neatly made bed, the antique chest of drawers. My gaze is drawn to the terrarium in the corner that houses three turtles—two swimming in a generous portion of water while the third rests on top of a half-submerged boulder encircled by aquatic weeds.

It’s a nice room—cozy. Liana has clearly turned it into a home.

“Tea?” she asks, indicating the steaming pot resting on the coffee table between us.

She’s already laid out two mugs and two large slices of cake, as if she knew—

Realization hits me. “You saw me coming, didn’t you?”

She only smiles, pouring the tea into a mug before adding a dash of milk and half a sugar—exactly how I like it.