“He might’ve left you something too,” she said. “Oh, I wouldn’t count on it with my luck.” “What are you talking about?” She gasped. “Honey, your luck is fin—” Halfway through her sentence, Semus bit my finger, drawing blood. I was just bringing a pickle to my mouth and jerked back, the pickle juice squirting into my eye. “Motherfluffer!” I fell flat on my ass, causing the disloyal cat to jump for safety but not before sinking his claws into my thighs to remind me who was the boss. I rolled on the floor, screaming, “My eyes! My eyes!” “Never mind. Go rest, Callichka. I’ll do the dishes.”
