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A SUDDEN, JARRING noise pierced the tranquility of the bathroom, startling Nettie from her dreamy slumber in the tub. She blinked her eyes open, finding the bubbles that had once danced playfully on the surface long gone, leaving only the milky whiteness of the dissolved bath salts swirling around her. As the knocking sound erupted again, this time more insistent, Nettie felt an adrenaline rush. She leaped from the tub, splashing cool water in her wake, the droplets glistening in the room’s soft light. With a sense of urgency, she wrapped herself in her oversized robe, its fabric soft against her damp skin, and hurried to the door, the rest of her body still glistening and unbothered by the chill of the air.

The third knock reverberated through the hallway, sharp and insistent. It was accompanied by a voice calling out to her with an urgency that hinted at desperation.

“I’m coming!” she called back, her heart racing as the knock echo lingered in her ears.

In a flurry, she darted to the mirror, glancing at her reflection to ensure her attire was both appropriate and presentable, adjusting the coverage over her breasts before heading toward the door, a mix of anticipation and anxiety bubbling within her.

Checking the peephole carefully, she caught a glimpse of the familiar deputy uniform, a sight that stirred a mix of anxiety and annoyance within her. Reluctantly, she opened the door just about three inches, enough to see him clearly while keeping her space intact. “Yes?” she asked cautiously, silently hoping he didn’t expect her to invite him to step inside her home.

The deputy nodded, his face solemn yet polite. “Deputy Wright, ma’am. I’m afraid you have a visitor. A man calling himself Casper,” he stated.

Unfrickenbelievable , she thought, an exasperated sigh welling up inside her. Did the man ever give up on pestering her? “I don’t wish to see him—ever,” she replied, her conviction clear as she hardened her expression against any possibility of swaying.

The deputy briefly swayed back and forth on his feet, a slight fidget revealing his discomfort. “I get that, ma’am. Truly, I do,” he said with a nod. “But you might want to consider seeing him this one time. He has a peace offering, as he calls it,” he added, implying that this could be more than just a casual visit.

She cast an appraising glance at her attire, her fingers brushing the soft fabric of her bathrobe. “I’m not dressed for company, so tell him to bring it to court.”

The deputy shifted his weight, glancing at her and then at the ground, his brow furrowed. “I don’t think he can do that, ma’am.”

A wave of confusion swept over her. “What does he have for this…peace offering?” She raised an eyebrow, suspecting it must be something rather unique or fragile for the deputy to appear so hesitant, like a child reluctant to confess mischief.

“It’s kittens, ma’am.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Kittens? What was she supposed to do with a handful of energetic furballs? Why would he assume she needed live animals to care for amidst her chaotic and demanding schedule? True, cats could often fend for themselves, darting about with a grace that made them appear almost regal. Still, kittens were an entirely different matter—needy and demanding, with their adorable antics that often led to endless distraction.

Yet, as thoughts of tiny mewling creatures danced through her mind, she couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of intrigue mixed with excitement at the idea of those little furballs. “Show him in,” she said.

The deputy cleared his throat, uncertainty still evident in his countenance. “Did you want time to dress?”

Realizing she was still clad in her bathrobe, she couldn’t help but laugh lightly, a sound that contrasted sharply with the serious nature of his presence. “Give me three minutes, then send him in.” With that, she took a deep breath, ready to transform her disheveled appearance into something suitable for the unexpected visit.

As Nettie hurriedly pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, her heart raced with excitement and trepidation. She couldn’t shake the nagging thought that inviting Mr. McNabb into her home might be reckless, especially without anyone else. Although she felt no real fear of him and didn’t believe he intended her any harm, the weight of the situation loomed large in her mind. He was, after all, on the opposing side of a legal case.

This reality gnawed at her and refused to be dismissed. Ignoring it could lead to catastrophic consequences—the case could be thrown out of court entirely, or worse, her professional standing could be jeopardized, risking her disbarment.

Nettie took a deep breath, her thoughts racing as she buttoned her jeans. She could only pray that the deputies would keep their mouths shut about what transpired within the confines of her home. If word got back to her boss, she would undoubtedly be pulled from the case, and it handed off to her already overburdened colleague, who had more than enough on his plate. The thought of it caused her stomach to churn as she clenched her fists, vowing to navigate this precarious situation with all the cunning she could muster.

When a firm knock resonated through her cozy living room, she had just slipped her feet into well-worn, casual shoes that felt like old friends. Smoothing her trembling hand down the front of her T-shirt to calm her nerves, she walked eagerly toward the door. The earlier, resounding words of Mr. McNabb echoed in her mind, declaring with earnest intensity that he “wanted her.” Why did those words send a giddy flutter through her stomach, igniting a curious blend of excitement and anxiety?

As she opened the door, her breath caught in her throat at the sight before her. Standing there was a sheepish-looking Mr. McNabb, his cheeks slightly flushed, clearly hesitant. He held up a gray pet carrier, from which the plaintive meows of two tiny kittens emanated, their soft cries tugging at her heartstrings. An overwhelming urge to scoop up the little creatures and cradle them in her lap surged through her.

“Come in, Mr. McNabb,” she said. “I’m not entirely sure why you’re standing there with live animals, but I’m curious about the story behind this unexpected visit.” Her gaze shifted to the kittens, whose wide eyes observantly took in their new surroundings, her heart already winning over to their adorable charm.

Mr. McNabb stepped into the room, his presence immediately commanding attention. He took a moment to survey her, his gaze raking over her from head to toe, instilling a sense of vulnerability that made her instinctively retreat. Perhaps it had been a grave mistake to allow him entrance, she thought, as a shiver of unease coursed through her. The mewing kittens seemed to mock her unease, a clever distraction he might have orchestrated to draw her into another conversation about his brother’s troubling case.

“I’m sorry to intrude,” he said quickly, almost too hastily, as if trying to mask a deeper motive. “I don’t know anyone else who could take them at such short notice, and the shelter down the street is closed for the day. Besides,” he added, “I wouldn’t feel right dropping them off there, not with their already overcrowding.” His eyes flickered with a hint of urgency, urging her to see the dilemma he was portraying, yet another emotional layer added to the already complicated situation.

“I can appreciate that you took the time to consider my situation,” she replied, steady yet tinged with a hint of frustration. “But I can’t possibly care for live animals, not with the demanding nature of my work schedule.” Her days were a relentless cycle of labor, beginning at the crack of dawn and extending long after the sun dipped below the horizon. Often, she would find herself tethered to her tasks for fourteen to fifteen grueling hours, leaving little room for anything else in her life. The thought of nurturing another living being that required regular feeding and constant attention seemed impossibly burdensome under her current circumstances.

“I took care of that.” His tone was reassuring as he set the sturdy carrier gently onto the plush carpet that adorned the floor. With a smooth motion, he opened the door behind him, allowing two-night deputies to step into the room. They entered carrying an array of supplies: bags filled with premium cat food, a soft blanket for comfort, and an assortment of toys designed to stimulate a feline’s curiosity. The sight of their arms brimming with the necessities for a cat’s survival added to the weight of her reservations, making her wonder just how much care was being thrust upon her amid her hectic life.

As the deputies departed, Mr. McNabb warmly expressed his gratitude to them as if they were old friends parting after an extended visit. Nettie found herself with a growing sense of unease. What was happening in her life? Had she truly lost control, spiraling into a situation she never anticipated?

“I went ahead and purchased a dual automatic feeder for the kittens, ensuring they are fed even during your late nights at work. I also invested in a self-cleaning litter box. It means you won’t have to worry about any mess after a long day,” he said, pridefully brimming.

Nettie couldn’t help but acknowledge his thoughtfulness. He had clearly put significant effort into considering her needs before dropping off the kittens, not to mention the considerable amount he had spent on these essential items for their care.

“Still,” she said, hesitating, torn between her desire to hold the tiny animals and the urge to keep her heart guarded, unwilling to form any attachments.

“Just hear me out,” he implored. “I’m asking you to foster them until I can find a permanent home. I genuinely don’t know anyone else who could assist me like this. And just to be clear, this has nothing to do with my brother’s case if that’s what you might suspect.”

Nettie had briefly considered the possibility that he was trying to bribe or charm her into swaying the court’s decision in his brother’s favor. However, she quickly set that thought aside, recognizing through his sincere demeanor that his primary concern lay with the kittens’ well-being rather than any ulterior motives regarding his brother’s situation. The gravity of responsibility pressed down on her as she weighed her feelings against the innocent lives of the kittens before her.

“Let’s see them,” she said, her voice betraying her excitement despite her conscious resolve to resist. She felt a thrill, knowing that once she held one of the creatures, she would be irrevocably obsessed, which was precisely why she had never ventured into the shelter. Instead, she had contributed through the pet store’s charitable fund, preserving her emotional distance.

Mr. McNabb’s grin expanded, reminiscent of a child’s delight in a candy store. He knelt, lifted the lid of the pet carrier, and carefully extracted two irresistibly adorable kittens, presenting the calico one to her with a flourish.

Her heart instantly leaped, overwhelmed by affection for the tiny creature. “Hello there, Callie,” she whispered, caught off guard by her impulse to name the kitten—a blatant contradiction to her steadfast rule of not forming attachments. As the kitten’s soft purring vibrated gently against her chest, a serene calm enveloped her, soothing her restless nerves.

She gestured for Mr. McNabb to sit on her rarely used gray couch. Despite her best efforts to maintain a professional demeanor, she struggled to shake off the thought of him as merely “Casper,” still grappling with the barriers she had erected around their relationship. He settled across from her, a charming black-and-white kitten perched playfully on his shoulder, adding to the moment’s warmth.

“I found them in the middle of the road,” he said, then grinned widely, “kind of like I found you.”