Kathryn
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Helen had found them for her. Kathryn had gone to Helen and explained what she was looking for, and Helen knew right away who to call and where to direct her.
Kathryn approached the bungalow on Culduthel Road and rang the bell.
“Hello. You must be Kathryn,” the woman at the door said. “Helen said you’d be by today. Come on in. The kittens are over here.” The woman was probably in her early thirties, and Kathryn could see the evidence of small children in the hallway, in the living room, and on the back patio.
“The children are napping, so let’s be quiet.” She smiled at Kathryn. She had a short pixie haircut and wore leggings under a cotton sweater, a turtleneck underneath. She led Kathryn into a bedroom closet. The bed had been hastily made, covers pulled up but not tucked
