Bella's Arc

Chapter 9 of 13

Bella crouched on the cushion above the clock, every muscle wound tight. She had not moved for a long time. She was waiting for the door to open again, and this time she would be ready. The wood beneath her paws was warm. Her tail did not twitch. Her breath was small. The tiny door clicked. It swung wide. The boy twin bolted out first, then the girl, each clutching one glittering earring against their chests. They sprinted across the carpet toward a curved gap in the baseboard — a small arched opening they had clearly used a hundred times. Bella had one pounce. She knew it. She launched from the cushion, claws spread, mouth open, a perfect arc through the air. The twins looked up. Their eyes went wide. For the first time, they had not guessed in time. She landed square between them. Both twins tumbled. The earrings flew up, spun, and fell — one, two — onto the pale carpet, sparkling in plain sight. The twins scrambled up and dove through the archway in the baseboard. Gone. But the crystals stayed. Bella stood over the two diamond studs, panting hard. She had not caught the twins. But she had something better, something solid, something Marella would have to see. She lifted her head and let out the loudest, longest meow of her short life. Footsteps came down the hall.