Robert Montgomery
As I arrive at the shelter, I realize I can see the sign for it now. Guess the witch no longer considers me a threat. Not knowing how I feel about that, I park my car at the curb and head inside. The lobby is empty, and I call out for Charlotte.
A moment later, Ricky appears from the back, a small kitten in one hand, a bottle of milk in the other. “What’re you doing here?”
“Where’s Charlotte?” I peer behind him.
“Long gone,” Ricky responds. “I dropped her off at your place. She was in a mood today. Never seen her so angry before. Whatever it is you did, I doubt a simple apology’s going to fix it.”
I take out my phone again. “Oh yeah, my battery’s dead. Guess I’ll find out what I did when I get home.”
“There’s a charger plugged in behind the desk here. Use that. I’ll
