Page 112 of Death and Do-Overs

“I’m not devastated.”

She gave me a pitying look like she wasn’t sure if I even realized I was lying.

I did know it, but I’d die before I’d admit it. If I admitted how much I cared, how badly I hurt, it would break me completely. I couldn’t afford to be devastated when Otis and his accomplice Noodles were out there waiting to murder me a second time.

If I could manage it, I preferred to defer the emotional aftermath indefinitely.

Imogen nibbled her muffin and looked back up at the sky. “When you love someone?—”

“I don’t love him,” I snapped at her. “I hate him.”

I hadn’t meant to lose my calm demeanor, and I immediately regretted it.

“Mmm.” She tilted her head slightly and pressed her lips together.

“He betrayed me, pretended that he cared.”

“Did he though?”

“Of course he did. He knew what Otis did, and he sought me out because of it.”

“Are you sure? Did he tell you that?”

No. He didn’t tell me that. He didn’t tell me anything at all. I hated these frustratingly reasonable questions and the holes they poked in my anger.

“We’re practically strangers,” I said. “I don’t love a stranger whose allegiance is to the man who murdered Nie.”

“You know what I think?”

“Something contrary and flowery and disgusting, I’m sure.”

She smiled like it was a compliment. “Nobody is perfect. But some people are worth it.”

That wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. I figured she’d say something along the lines ofrainbow fairy love is always meant to be.

“Ooh, a cat!” Imogen popped up from her seat and started running. “It has a crown!”

Grateful I had a to-go cup, and for an end to this torturous conversation, I took my coffee and headed after her.

As I rounded the first corner, I was surprised to find the pair stopped in the street. Had Noodles led us here purposefully? It certainly seemed to be the case.

“Aha! I knew it. You have a crown,” Imogen waved her finger at the cat. “You’re the cat-fox, Noodles McDoodles Butterbelly!”

The cat lounged across the middle of the street and flicked its tail like it couldn’t be bothered with us.

It was wearing a tiara, which was weird. The ears were a little longer, and the fur was a little redder than a typical tabby, but it looked like a relatively benign cat-like creature to me. It looked almost nothing like the red fox I’d seen on the video.

“What are you doing in Nevermore?” Imogen asked the cat.

The cat looked away.

Imogen snapped a photo with her camera. “I’ll send this to Rose. She’ll confirm your identity.”

The cat continued flicking its tail.

If this went wrong, I still had potions in my bag, and I had my knife. I’d have to drop my coffee and Imogen’s muffin to retrieve them, but that was a small price to pay for staying alive.

“I know you can understand me,” Imogen said. “You better talk or I’ll bodysnatch you andmakeyou talk.”

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