When he reaches his car, he stills, holding my stare. “It’s the strangest thing. I’ve been sneezing a lot lately and I have no idea why.” I grit my teeth as he gets into the driver’s seat, starts the engine, and backs out. After he’s gone, I trek to the back of the house. A metallic smell hits my nostrils the second I enter the basement. My stomach sours and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention as I take in the trail of blood on the floor. No. Acid works up my throat as I round the small corner to my bed. I inhale a sharp breath when I find Whiskers on the floor in
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