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I set Octo-Cat’s carrier on the ground and opened the latch. He pranced right up to the giant window, his movements soft and swaying despite his hatred of that carrier. A gentle rain had begun to patter on the glass, surrounding us in a peaceful dream-like bubble.

“I wish Grizabella was here to see this,” he said with a longing I’d never heard from him before, not even when he spoke of his late owner, Ethel Fulton. The poor guy had it so, so bad.

“It is romantic,” I said, cuddling into my jacket and scooching around in my seat until I found the most comfortable position.

We both watched the rain for some time, and beyond that, the rolling hillside of whichever state we were steaming through now. Probably still Maine, or perhaps we’d made it to New Hampshire or even Massachusetts by now. I’d almost drifted to sleep when Octo-Cat hopped up onto the seat beside me and then climbed onto my lap, a rare move from him, indeed.

“Are you worried about meeting your family for the first time?” he asked as he padded my lap with his front paws to increase the comfiness before settling down to relax. He almost never asked how I was feeling. Normally he just told me—yes, told me how I was feeling. I decided not to point that out and just enjoy his concern. After all, I really did need someone to talk to about this.

“It’s weird,” I admitted, pensively stroking the fur at his neck. “I always thought I knew who I was and where I came from, and then suddenly it’s all wrong. And the weirdest part is that I never would have known if Pringle wasn’t such a sticky-fingered snoop.”

As much as the raccoon irritated me, I would forever have him to thank for finding and revealing the truth about my mother’s—and consequently, my—heritage.

Octo-Cat purred in a way that told me he could only be thinking of his new lady love. He still appeared to be paying at least some of his attention to me, too, so I asked,“What would you do if you were in my shoes?”

“Shoes?” He huffed at the suggestion. “You’re such a human.”

I couldn’t tell whether or not this was intended as an insult, so I kept mum. I was incredibly human, after all.

He stopped purring and crossed his forelegs in front of him.“It’s different for cats. It doesn’t really matter where you came from. Only that you turned out right.”

Such a simple thought, but a nice one. Sometimes I really liked his way of looking at things.

“Cats don’t see their families again after we’re taken away. I mean, I guess strays and alley cats might.” He stopped to shudder at the thought. “But what happened with Nan and your mom, that’s really normal for cats. We are born to our cat family but then taken away by our human family, and that’s where we stay.”

“So what are you saying?”

“Nan is your human, and she’s a good one. Things could have been much worse.”

He was right about that. Sometimes my cat was so smart, and other times he stared at the wall for no apparent reason. He was weird, all right, but luckily our weirds matched just perfectly.

And with that thought, I drifted off to the sound of his purrs.

Chapter Five

The continuous song of the rain and the unexpected bliss of kitty cuddles lulled me to sleep right where I sat. I dreamed I was Anne of Green Gables taking that first fated train ride that would deliver her to the Cuthberts. A nice dream, considering Anne was one of my all-time favorite heroines.

The lovely dream came to an abrupt end, however, when a horrible shriek rent the air and four sets of claws dug deep into my lap.

“Ouch, careful!” I cried, shooting to my feet so fast that Octo-Cat fell to the ground.

He immediately popped back to all four feet and stood with his tail drooping toward the ground and his neck stretching toward the roof.“It’s my Grizabella!” he said, his ears twitching like satellite receptors. “She is in trouble. We must go to her.”

The shriek shattered the night once more, and I realized then the scream was, in fact, feline and not human. That didn’t make it less frightening, but it probably meant that most other passengers would choose to ignore it.

“It’s this way,” Octo-Cat cried, pouncing toward the door that led the opposite direction from whence we’d come. I assumed this led to the fancy sleeper cars, the ones we couldn’t quite afford but that I had no doubt Rhonda Lou Ella Smith could.

My cat was too worked up now to stuff him back in his carrier, so I grabbed it and ran after him.

He stopped at the door and shouted,“I’m coming, my darling! I’m coming!”

The shriek sounded again. This time it was accompanied by the words,“Hurry!”

I had no idea what we were walking—or rather running—into, but it definitely sounded urgent. We passed through two sleeper cars, then opened the door to the third. When we entered, we found the wailing Himalayan pacing the hall.

She ran straight up to us and nuzzled Octo-Cat’s face. “Thank you for coming so fast. My mistress… She—Oh, gosh. It’s too horrible to even say!”

Octo-Cat appeared momentarily tongue-tied, so I took the lead.