By morning, the creature had claimed her kitchen as its domain. Elise called the animal “Shadow,” and the name seemed to fit, as though it had always been waiting. The kitten followed her from room to room, eyes glowing in corners, tail swishing with a confidence far beyond its size.
Later, as she swept the porch, she noticed tiny paw prints pressed into the mud. They seemed wider, heavier than an ordinary kitten’s. She bent close, uneasy, then brushed them away before anyone could see. To herself, she whispered, “All kittens grow differently.” Yet the words felt unconvincing.