Inside his kennel, the air was warm and dry. The "Premium Salmon blend" sat in his bowl, a pile of brown, star-shaped pellets that smelled vaguely of fish oil and cardboard.
Noah ignored it.
He went to the corner of the room, where a loose panel in the scratching-post wall sat near the floorboards. He had noticed it days ago—a small imperfection in the perfect prison—but had never cared enough to check it.
He pried it open with his fingernails. It was a small hollow space, perhaps where a mouse hole had been plastered over.
He reached into his pocket. He didn't have the items—he had given those to the beast. But he had something else.
He pulled out a single, small pebble he had picked up from the beach. It was grey, smooth, and cold. It was a piece of the real world, uncorrupted by the neon fantasy.
He placed the stone in the hollow wall.
"I am Noah," he whispered to the darkness. "I am a father. I am not a pet."
He replaced the panel, smoothing the carpet over it. It was invisible.
He lay down on his oversized cushion, staring at the ceiling where the fake stars were projected. He didn't take the sleeping pill Catherine had given him earlier—he had spat it out on the beach when Mittens wasn't looking, burying it in the sand.
Tonight, his mind was a battlefield. The withdrawal from the sedatives was starting to kick in. His hands shook. Sweats broke out on his forehead. The static in his head buzzed louder, trying to drown out his thoughts.
If Purr-sident has her things, Noah reasoned, his mind working tactically for the first time in years, then he is keeping her somewhere special. Somewhere safe.
He remembered the list. He remembered the whispers he had heard in the Grooming Salon weeks ago, snippets of conversation he had ignored in his fog.
The White Zone.
Mittens had mentioned it once. The sterile district. The place where pets went when they were "broken," or when they needed "upgrades."
If she's sick, Noah thought, clenching his fists until his nails dug into his palms, that's where she'll be.
"Hang on, little kitty," he whispered into the dark. "Daddy's awake now. And he's coming."