"Here." I hand Owen his phone once he returns, and the absence of the device makes my fingers curl into fists. It's like handing over my safety.
He accepts it with a nod, tucking it into his pocket. Bun wiggles in Owen's arms, leaning toward me with grabby hands. Her eyes—wide and dark—fix on mine with intensity.
"Guh!" she demands, and I reach out without thinking.
Owen transfers her into my arms without comment. The weight of her settles against my chest, warm and solid.
I freeze.
The bunny ears I'd gently dried minutes ago have vanished. In their place are triangular, twitching appendages covered in fine black fur.
Cat ears. Definitely cat ears.
I blink hard, certain I'm hallucinating. My fingers tentatively reach up to touch one. It twitches beneath my touch—warm, soft, and undeniably real. Not a headband or costume piece, but flesh and bone and fur growing directly from her scalp.
A dizzy sensation washes over me. This isn't possible.
