She rolls her eyes and goes to the stairs. “I hope Muff pees on your head.” She stomps up the stairs. My face falls as I process her words. “What?” I look around and catch sight of the mangy cat sitting on the couch. We lock eyes. “Is that a possibility?” I call. Silence. “Claire?” Silence. “I’m allergic to cats, Claire. I need to sleep with you,” I call. “In your bed.”
