Meet Amber, a teenage girl struggling with the death of her father, an overstressed mother- and lycanthropy. All she wants is for her life to go back to normal, but a magical corporation has lost a valuable test subject and they believe Amber will b...
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Chapter Twenty Three
"What do you want to do?" I asked when the pack had dispersed.
Kimberly didn't respond.
"Do you want to..." I wracked my brain, trying to think of what she might enjoy. "Go to the toy store?"
She shook her head, still staring at the floor.
"Look at dresses?" I suggested. She shook her head. "Bookstore?" She shook her head.
With a sigh, I took her hand again and began to walk aimlessly through the mall. I was determined to find something here that she would enjoy. It would take her mind off everything that was happening, even if it was only for a few minutes. I watched her just as much as I looked at the stores, waiting for something to catch her eye- or her ear, rather, since she refused to look at anything but her shoes.
It wasn't for another thirty minutes that something finally seemed to catch her attention. We smelled it before we saw it, and we heard it before we smelled it. The pet store sat at the far end of the mall, the scents of dozens of different animals almost overwhelming my sensitive nose. At first, I wanted to keep walking, but when Kimberly heard the sounds of barking puppies and singing birds, her eyes lit up just a little bit.
"You wanna go in there?" I asked. She bobbed her head up and down eagerly, so I turned to go inside.
I'll admit, the pet store did quite a bit to cheer me up too. There was another couple at the other end of the store, trying in vain to coax a stubborn old cat into coming to the cage door so they could pet it. Kimberly immediately pulled me toward the fish tanks, where she stood mesmerized by their colorful, calming inhabitants.
"Did you have a fish?" I asked.
She nodded. "He was a goldfish," she answered, speaking for the first time since we'd left the house. "His name was George."
"George?" I asked, snorting with laughter.
"It was a good name!" she insisted, pouting.
"Yeah, you're right," I agreed before she got upset. "It was a good name."
For a minute, I was worried that remembering George the Goldfish would make her start crying again, but she seemed comforted watching the fish swim around. After a few minutes, I let her hand fall free of my own, and went to look at something else. She would be fine without me for a couple of minutes.
The other people had already left, giving up on trying to lure the cat closer to the door, so I went to take a look at it, too.
"Hey, there," I spoke softly into the cage. The cat immediately looked up at me in interest. "How's the pretty kitty today?"
I poked my fingers through the bars, and the cat stood up to come closer. It pressed its side against the cage door, and I moved my hand to scratch it behind its ears.
