Page 11 of How to Flirt with a Witch

If she won’t give me answers, I’ll find them myself.

Lucy meows, a tiny, pitiful sound.

“Don’t worry, you’re going home,” Doctor Zacharias says. She lifts the kennel to let me see inside. The fleece blanket I used to trap Lucy is folded nicely, as cozy as a bird’s nest. She’s sitting at the back, gazing at me with big blue eyes.

Blue, not purple.Thisis the angelic kitten I adopted—and to top it off, there’s a pink ribbon around her neck.

“Oh, she looks so cute.” My anger melts away, replaced with a wave of relief and gratitude over having her back. “Hi, sweetie.”

She meows again, flashing her little teeth.

“I wanted to make her presentable for her return,” Doctor Zacharias says.

I meet her gaze. “You put the ribbon on?”

She presses her lips together, almost bashful.

Dammit, now I feel bad for getting snippy. “I—well—thank you. I’m glad she’s safe and healthy.”

Something I can’t decipher glints in her brown eyes. “And I’m glad she’s going to a home where she’ll be loved deeply.”

Her voice reverberates in my chest like a subwoofer.

As she passes the kennel to me by the handle, our fingers entwine. A ridiculous giggle escapes me as I try to ignore the heat zapping up my arm. “Oop—got it.”

Oop?What’s wrong with me?

My skin tingles where her warm, soft fingers slid between mine.

Lucy gives a tiny meow, as if asking if we can go now.

“I know, baby, we’ll cuddle as soon as we get back,” I tell her.

Doctor Zacharias turns to fidget with the pens on the front desk. “Is she your first cat?”

The question feels more personal than clinical, catching me off-guard. I nod. “I’m just here for school and wanted a study buddy.”

“Just for school? You think you won’t like Vancouver enough to stay?” Her tone is teasing, a peek at a different side of her.

I lift a shoulder. “It’s nice here, but… it’s not home.”

She studies me as I try to act like mentioning home didn’t just punch a hole in my heart. Why did I think applying to a university across the country was a good idea?

The door swings open with a softwhoosh, letting in a gust of cool autumn air. A girl my age runs in, holding a squirming golden retriever puppy. “My dog swallowed a bunch of LEGO,” she cries, her eyes watery.

The vet tech grabs a clipboard. “Please fill this out,” she says in the same flat tone she used with me.

I step toward the door with Lucy’s kennel, the handle firm and comforting in my grip. “Thanks again.” I swallow hard. “Can I at least have your first name?”

She pauses for a fraction of a second. “Natalie.”

“Natalie. I’m Katie.”

She must have known that already, but she nods anyway, her dark eyes gleaming.

I wave and turn away. Will this be the last time I see her? On the one hand, that would be a good thing, given her job in infectious diseases. On the other hand… it’s been at least a year since anyone made me feel like fireflies were waking up inside me.

Natalie. Nat. Doctor Natalie Zacharias.