CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Cyrus woke up on a bed of cedar shavings. The soft bedding was as comfortable as a mattress to his rat body, and he turned over a few times, smelling the clean scent that reminded him of his uncle’s farm in central Illinois. The white barn with the quarter horses, the mountains of shavings, and Timothy hay…
He scratched an itch on his face and yawned. He stretched his legs, bending down and sticking his hump and tail into the air.
Where was he?
It was late. Middle of the night.
Several shadows lay in the distance. A wooden post. Paint. On the walls. A chest full of freshly laundered clothes. Divinely feminine. A closet full of shoes. Leather. Lots and lots of leather.
In the next room, the aroma of coffee, completely black…and...pizza? Pepperoni!
Cyrus stood on th
