Cage 42 Oscar: The Cat Who Turned My Apartment Into a Trial

there holding a small trash bag. Late thirties. Hair pulled into a messy bun. Tired eyes.

I recognized her from the elevator. She lived a few doors down.

I opened the door a crack, keeping my body in the frame so Oscar couldn’t slip past.

“Hi,” she said quickly. “Sorry to bother you. I’m Marla.”

Her voice had that careful tone people use when they’re trying continue reading …