THE DREAMER'S LAMENT

01. III

For six years, Mitchska's daughter grew knowing Jantzen and Inaya as her parents, after all, they showered her with all the love they had.

One evening, on Kodiak's sixth birthday, Jantzen and Inaya gifted Kodiak a kitten, adopted from a shelter. The kitten was ruffled and ugly to many, one eye scarred and bits of his fur ripped off from his body. Yet, Kodiak adored him, and he, her.

Several days after, midnight, the couple was awoken by a crash of broken glass, strange squelching noise, and ragged weeping stirring from the foyer. Inaya immediately leapt to her feet and called the authority, while Jantzen encroached down the staircase, moving in the cloak of shadows, the glint of his gun in his hand. He rounded the corner at the end of the stairs; he was startled to find shards of a knocked down vase sleeting the floor, snagged in the cornflower-blue strands of Kodiak's hair, littered on her lap.

Kodiak?

His heart stopped the second he saw a sobbing Kodiak clutching her kitten to her chest, smearing her nightgown with...

Blood.

Horrified, Jantzen yelled at Kodiak to put the cat gently on the ground. Kodiak flinched. Jantzen realized his mistake, smitten with guilt. He knelt to match her gaze and said much gentler, "Come to me, Kodiak." Slowly, hesitantly, Kodiak unfolded her legs, stood, and walked to her uncle. Jantzen enfolded her in a hug, his breaths panicked and jagged. It was as if his heart was about to shatter through his ribcage. Kodiak was trembling, hard. "Are you okay, honey?"

Perhaps too petrified to answer, Kodiak nodded.

Jantzen sighed in relief.

Inaya descended the flight of stairs, her slippers padding softly against the parquet. She dropped to her knees and her arms flew around them both, quailing. "I was terrified, sweetheart. What happened?" asked Inaya.

Kodiak burst into sobs. Every cry racked her shoulders. She choked on them as tears glassed her eyes, trickling relentlessly down her round cheeks.