“Well, I have some gossip for you, Blythe.” Cat arched her back in a stretch. “But I’ve figured out who you are. Well, Marcelene and I have. And I’m going to throw a live mouse at Raven for not telling me when I see him.” “Wait, what?” I asked, approaching the front table. Marcelene took my hands in hers. “I should have seen it the moment you entered my shop… But I suppose that is your gift, isn’t it? No one sees you coming.” Her glimmering brown eyes met mine. “Not even you.” “Should we tell her?” Cat asked. Marcelene scratched the feline’s ear. “I think Death already knows.”
